Martha, lady Giffard, her life and correspondence (1664-1722)

MARTHA, LADY GIFFARD

• • » » • •

Martha Temple (Lady Giffard),
Born 1638, Died 1722.

MARTHA
LADY GIFFARD

HER LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE

(1664-1722)

A SEQUEL TO THE LETTERS OF
DOROTHY OSBORNE

EDITED BY

JULIA G. LONGE

WITH PREFACE BY

HIS HONOUR JUDGE PARRY

AND TWENTY-ONE FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS

LONDON: GEORGE ALLEN & SONS

44 & 45 RATHBONE PLACE
1911

[All rights reserved]

.^^A

^V"^

TO
^1 FATHER

PREFACE

Miss Longe has been good enough to ask me to
write a few words of preface to her " Letters of
Martha, Lady Giffard." This I do the more willingly
remembering the kindness of other members of her
family to myself when I was preparing my editions of
Dorothy Osborne's '' Letters." It was as far back as
1 886 that an article of mine, drawing a fancy portrait of
Dorothy Osborne, taken from some extracts from her
letters printed in an appendix to Courtenay's '' Life
of Temple," happened to fall into the hands of the
late Mrs. S. R. Longe, who, with characteristic un-
selfishness, was pleased to write to me as a ''fellow
servant " of Dorothy Osborne, and place at my dis-
posal the transcripts of the letters and the notes that
she had made. It was from these transcripts that the
volume I published in 1888 was printed. At that time
it was not thought advisable by the experts of the
publishing world to print all the letters ; but when,
in 1903, it became possible to make a more complete
book it was through the courtesy of Miss Longe 's
father, Mr. Longe of Spixworth Park, that the Letters
of Dorothy Osborne were at length published.

As in the past, the public owe a debt of gratitude
to the members of Miss Longe's family in rendering
these treasures accessible to the world of readers, so

283639

vi PREFACE

in the future this debt will be increased by the present
volume, which adds much to our knowledge of Dorothy
Osborne and her friends and relations.

The letters of Lady Giffard, Dorothy's sister-in-law,
and of Lady Sunderland ('* Sacharissa"), Temple's
friend, and the details of Lady Temple's life, are all
matters that true servants of Dorothy Osborne will be
glad to possess. The letters which deal more nearly
with Dorothy's later life are naturally of especial in-
terest to the writer, and although it cannot be said
that they have the peculiar charm of the original love-
letters, yet they carry on for us very pleasantly our
interest in Dorothy and her circle. It is a pity that
there are not more letters about "my son Jack . . .
the quietest, best little boy yt ever was borne." In
this phrase one sees that it is the same Dorothy that
is writing, as earnest and simple and frank, now she is
a mother, as in the days when she had been a lover.

Miss Longe has had the courage to do what is
undoubtedly the right thing in printing the letters
exactly as they were spelled and written, and one can
only hope that a course that will make the book more
attractive to students and scholars will not be found to
repel the general reader, who will meet with so much
entertainment and information in its pages.

For the book has a general interest altogether out-
side its illustrations of the later life of Lady Temple.
Much light is thrown on the life of her husband and
his contemporaries. Letters that deal with the works
and days of Sir William Temple, Swift, the Duchess
of Somerset, and the Countess of Portland, to mention
only a few of the names that appear in these pages,

PREFACE vii

must be welcomed by all students of the latter half of
the seventeenth century. For the desire of readers of
all classes to enjoy glimpses of the past life of their
country-men and women which can only be obtained
through contemporary letters seems to be growing
apace. It is not so long ago since Courtenay printed a
few incomplete extracts from Dorothy Osborne's letters,
not without apology for inserting them in his serious
history, and Macaulay referred to them with a passing
and patronising pleasantry. Even when my original
volume of Dorothy's *' Letters " was completed several
notable publishers were clear that there were no
readers for it. But to-day that attitude of mind is
happily changed, and any one who can bring the
reader into direct touch with a world and society that
is gone by, skilfully using the actual letters and
memorials of those who played their parts in the for-
gotten drama, has a sure and certain welcome from
an ever - widening circle of thoughtful men and
women.

It is because I know the enthusiasm that many
quiet readers have for Dorothy Osborne's letters that
I feel sure there will be an eager desire to read this
later correspondence, and to trace her influence in
the affairs of her husband and family through the
long autumn of Dorothy's life that followed the
summer days of the love-letters.

EDWARD A. PARRY.
Manchester, November 1910.

INTRODUCTION

Martha, Lady Giffard, sister of the great diplomatist
and philosopher, Sir William Temple, is the central
figure in these memoirs.

It is to her that her brother's historians owe
many important details of his career. Under the
respective titles of ** Life " and *' Character " of Sir
William Temple she wrote an epitome of his life.
The ** Character," published in pamphlet form about
1720, was written in vindication of Bishop Burnet's
aspersions on his religious principles. Both MSS.
are still in existence, and have been studied in the
original, as a background for her letters.

'* MOREPARK, Mar, 4, 1694.

"Considering the sure Friendship that has soe
long existed between us without interruption and
perhaps without example, and which I am sure will do
soe to the end of our lives, for I dare answer for you,
as well as for my dearest sister's most affectionate
Brother, Wm. Temple."

In his own '* cabinet," where he probably first
placed it himself more than two centuries ago, lies
the paper in Sir William Temple's handwriting from
which these words are quoted ; it is addressed to

'' The Lady Giffard,

'' To be opened after my death,
** Wm. Temple."

INTRODUCTION ix

The little memorandum is of no importance now ;
it relates to some diamond rings he had given her
in his lifetime, and wishes her to leave to his grand-
children. But the charming tribute to his sister's
devotion and loyalty is worthy of remembrance.

Friendship indeed was the keynote of Lady
Giffard's life. *' I always owne it," she wrote to Lady
Chesterfield, " Friendship is y^ thing in y^ Worlde
I have y^ greatest esteeme for. ... I must confess
to have bin once soe happy in my kindnesse to some
persons as to have found charms in their conversation
greate enough at all times as to disperse all y® clouds
my own fancy soe perpetually furnished me with ; and
while my cure was soe neare, I was never sensible
of my disease, a cette heure un si beau sofige est finy.
For to say y® truth, all that has fallen of happiness to
me has bin soe like a dream y*^ I should have reason
to doubt y® reality of it, if I did not finde still y^
impression of my losse that time will never wear out."

Sad words, but true ; for she was early called
upon to face the stern realities of life, and almost
on its threshold her bubble of happiness burst.

She was married on the 21st April 1661 to Sir
Thomas Giffard of Castle Jordan, Co. Meath, and
a month later her bridegroom died in the flower
of his youth, of one of those sudden, mysterious
''disorders" for which medical science had, as yet,
no name. A sharp, short illness, an interval of pain
and delirium, then a blessed unconsciousness, which
ended in death ; and the bridal gown was exchanged
for the widow's weeds.

A sermon of preposterous length, but of a quality
above the usual standard of such discourses, was
preached at his funeral in St. Audoen's Church,
Dublin. A copy of it remains among Lady Giffard's
papers to-day. After some eighteen pages of perora-
tion occur these paragraphs : —

b

X INTRODUCTION

'* Here lyes before us the remainder of a hopeful
yonge gentleman, Sir Thomas Giffard, consarning
whom I shall not trouble you with telling that he was
descended from an ancient and honourable famylie,
that he was a comely person, that his relations were
honourable and faithfull, valliant and wise. He was
a young man of many parts, a lover too of church
duties and a frequenter of the Communion of Saints,
of a sweete carriage, an innocent conversation, affable
and courteous, grateful and obliging. . . .

** In his early manhood practizeing carefully what
he had learnt betymes. I have heard he usually
marched in the head of his company to church, and
at y^ entry into y^ holie place sometyms made them
an antesermon, charging them carefully to attend to
y® divine service and threatening to cashiere him who
should dare on this day to doe an act unworthy of
a Christian soldier.

*' I knewe him," continues the preacher, '' but in
the hours of his death, but I have somtyms seene
him in Parliament blush like a child, and I have
heard him at the same tyme speake like a man.

** He wrought but one hour," he says quaintly,
** but it was y® first, and uninterrupted until God
called him off."

Such was the man Lady Giffard mourned all
her life.

This branch of the Giffards ended with this Sir
Thomas, but they were without doubt the same family
as that of the present Lord Halsbury, and the Giffards
of Devonshire and Yorkshire.

Lord Halsbury, who represents the Devonshire
branch, bears for arms three lozenges conjoined in
fesse ermine.

Lady Giffard kept some of her letters in a small
red leather case, tooled with gold and stamped with
three lozenges, party per pale, argent and gules.

INTRODUCTION xi

The history of the Giffard family is one of ad-
herence to the Stuarts, and Castle Jordan suffered
in their cause.

She was not (as far as we know) either a great
beauty or a great wit, and the charm and influence
of Lady Temple never could have been eclipsed by
the constant presence of the younger woman, who was
clever and sympathetic enough to see and appreciate
the other's brilliant gifts. They were probably ex-
cellent foils for each other, and their contrasting
personalities helped to make the English embassy
at the Hague the delightful meeting-place that it
was — the constant resort of Royalty and all persons
of note whose pleasure or business took them to
Holland.

The picture of her that forms the frontispiece
is extraordinarily like the Netscher portrait of Sir
William.

In personal appearance Lady Giffard must have
been curiously like Sir William Temple. She has
left us a word-portrait of her brother, *' whose person/'
she says, '' will be best known by his pictures." This
may be so, but the characteristic touches, noted by
his sister, supply details the canvas cannot show.

"He was tall," she says, "rather than short, and
his shape when he was young very exact. His hair
of a dark browne, curled naturally, and while that was
esteemed a beauty nobody had it in more perfection ;
his eyes gray, but very lively ; in his youth lean but
extremely active, soe y' nobody acquitted themselves
better at all sorts of exercise, and had more spirit and
life in his humour, and with soe agreeable veins of witt
and fancy that nobody was welcomer in all company,
and some have observed that he never had a minde
to make anybody kinde to him that he did not
compass it."

Lady Giffard lived through three great crises of

xii INTRODUCTION

England's history — the Commonwealth, or *' Ye Great
Rebellion," as she called it, the Restoration, and the
*' Surprising Revolution" of 1683. She took no pro-
minent part at any time in the history of her own
times, but her lot was cast with those who were in
the forefront of battle.

In her MSS. she says so little of herself that
we have to build up this connected history of her
life principally from the letters of other people. ** Ye
may know a man by his friends " ; and it is through
her friends that we must chiefly become acquainted
with this gentle lady of the seventeenth century. So
unlike is she to our preconceived notions of ladies
of fashion of that date, that if only for her surprisingly
opposite qualities she must make us love her.

She was possibly not a woman to **set your soul
on fire," nor the kind of woman for whom men profess
themselves eager to die a hundred deaths ; but she
was one who made (and kept) a great number of
devoted friends of both sexes through all her long
and varied life — an experience given only to those
to whose characters is added that enviable and inde-
finable quality called charm.

My thanks are due to Sir Algernon Osborn for
kind permission to print the Osborne letters ; to
Mr. Ashley, Lady De Saumarez, and Miss Meade,
for the generous loan of their pictures ; and to Judge
Parry, Mr. Barrett- Lennard, Mr. Anderson, and
others, for their help and encouragement.

N.B, — The Netscher portraits of Sir William and
Lady Temple are at Spixworth Park ; the frontispiece
is in the possession of Colonel Douglas Longe.

JULIA G. LONGE.
Spixworth Park, Nov. 10, 1910.

CONTENTS

PAGE

Dedication iv

Preface by Judge Parry v

Introduction viii

FART

I. Lady Chesterfield's Letters to Lady Giffard . i

IL Mrs. Temple's (Dorothy Osborne) Letters to

Sir William Temple i8

III. Diplomacy '. . 47

IV. Letters from Lady Sunderland (" Sacharissa ")

AND William Godolphin to Lady Giffard . 81

V. At the Hague 119

VI. A Chronicle of Family Events .... 144

VII. Moor Park 160

VIII. Lady Giffard's Letters to the Countess of

Portland when she was Lady Berkeley . 196

IX. The Death of Sir William Temple and the
Publication of the Third Part of his

Memoirs 231

X. Lady Giffard's Letters to Lady Portland . 252

XI. Family News, and Dr. Young's Letters to Lady

Giffard 279

XII. The Duchess of Somerset and her Letters . 308

XIII. Last Days of Lady Giffard, and her Will . 345

xiii

THE BROADLANDS PICTURES

The presence of the Broadland portraits, reproduced through the
kindness of Mr. Ashley for the first time, makes the collection of
Temple family pictures an unique one. The Lely portraits of Sir
William and Lady Temple and Lady Giffard, the Netscher picture of
Lady GifFard and Diana Temple, as well as all the portraits of the
Temples of East Sheen, are from Broadlands. The portrait that Swift
sold for Mrs. Dingley's benefit to John Temple in 1736 is now there.
Mr. Temple's Irish agent, Mr. Hatch, arranged for its transport. " I
waited upon the Dean of St. Patrick's," he wrote, "with your service,
I told him I had a ship ready to carry over Lady Giffard's picture if
he would please to let me have it, in order to get it cased for the
journey. He immediately gave it to me, and I will send it and
the one I have in a ship that leaves in ten days." *' Jervas told me,"
wrote the Dean at the same date, " that your aunt's picture is in Lilly's
best manner and the drapery all in the same hand." N.B. — Some of
these pictures are mentioned in the Moor Park catalogue.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Martha Lady Giffard . . . . . Frontispiece
In Colour, {Artist unknown.)

Lady Giffard To face page 8

By Sir Peter Lely.

Facsimile of Lady Temple's Handwriting . „ 24

Sir William Temple „ 48

By Sir Peter Lely.

Lady Temple „ 60

By Sir Peter Lely.

Dorothea, Countess of Sunderland . . „ 92

By Sir Peter Lely.

Lady Temple, Wife of Sir John Temple of

Sheen „ 132

By W. Wissing.

Lady Giffard and Diana Temple . . . „ 148

By Netscher.

Facsimile of Lady Giffard's Handwriting . „ 176

Jonathan Swift, while a Student at Trinity

College, Dublin „ 178

{Artist unknown.)

Lady Temple . ,, 192

By Netscher (1671).

XV

XVI

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Sir John Temple the Younger, of Sheen To face page 196

By Sir Peter Lely,

Facsimile of Swift*s Handwriting (being his
copy of Lady Giffard's Translation from the
Spanish of Montemeyer)

Sir William Temple

By Netscher (1674).

Facsimile of Lady Portland's Writing .
Facsimile of Sir William Temple's Writing

218
232

Lady Portland .

By Sir Godfrey KnelUr,

P(^ge 235

,) 251

To face page 252

Lady Berkeley of Stratton (Frances Temple)

By Dahl.

Lucy Temple

By Sir Godfrey KnelUr,

Moor Park

Shrubland Old Hall . . . .

By Repton,

The Duchess of Somerset . . . .

By Sir Peter Lely.

The Temple Relics at Spixworth Park .
The Temple Cabinet at Spixworth Park

264

276

280
286

308

350
350

LETTERS OF
MARTHA, LADY GIFFARD

PART I

1664-1665. Charles II

LADY CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS

"The style of letters should be free, easy and natural, as near
approaching to familiar conversation as possible. The best qualities
in conversation are good humour and good breeding ; those letters,
therefore, are certainly the best that show the most of these two
qualities."— William Walsh (i 663-1 709).

The earliest letters Lady Giffard has left us are
dated 1664, and are from Elizabeth, Countess of
Chesterfield, wife of Philip the second earl. She
was a daughter of the first Duke of Ormond, known
in history as the Great Duke, at this time Lord High
Steward of the Household of Charles II., having
previously been Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland. The
friendship between the two ladies was one no doubt
of early girlhood, when Lady Chesterfield s father
had reigned in Dublin Castle, and Sir John Temple
had been Master of the Rolls there.

Lord Chesterfield was already a widower when
he married the Lady Elizabeth Butler, his first wife
having been Lady Anne Percy, daughter of the Earl of
Northumberland. He was a cold, proud man, soured

A

2 LADY GIFFARD^S CORRESPONDENCE

by the faithlessness and cupidity of the infamous
woman who was then virtually, though not legally,
Queen of England.

When Katherine of Braganza was sent from her
convent to England as the bride of Charles II.,
Lord Chesterfield was appointed her Chamberlain ;
and with his father-in-law the Duke of Ormond, and
Lord Carlingford her Master of the Ceremonies, sailed
with the Duke of York's squadron to meet her. The
poor little queen made a more pleasing impression
on her Chamberlain than she did on Englishmen in
general. He described her as **very discreet, of a
good understanding, in person exactly shaped " (which,
in the phraseology of the day, meant she had a good
figure), ** lovely hands, excellent eyes, a good coun-
tenance, a pleasing voice, and fine hair ; and in fine
is what an understanding man would wish for a wife."
It is a pity his lordship could not have had her. She
might have suited him better than his own only too
attractive lady !

His great-grandson the fifth earl (he of the cele-
brated letters) quotes the following description of
this lord from de Grammont's Memoirs : '* II avait le
visage fort agr^able, la tete assez belle, peu de taille
et moins d'air, il ne manquait pas d'esprit, un long
sdjour en Italie lui en avait communique la cer^monie
dans le commerce des hommes et la defiance dans
celui des femmes."

Lely painted a very charming picture of Lady
Chesterfield, who was beautiful among the many
beautiful women who shone in the gay crowd at
Whitehall. A contemporary writer describes her as
having "the most exquisite shape imaginable, but

LADY CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS 3

not tall, fair with all the glow and whiteness of a
blonde, and all the animation and piquancy of a
brunette. She had large blue eyes which were very
alluring, her manners engaging, her wit lively, but her
heart, ever open to tender sentiment, was not very
scrupulous in point of constancy." In short, she had
the defects of her qualities, and it was her misfortune
that so much loveliness and lovableness should have
been wasted on a man who did not love her, but who
indulged in a grande passion for Lady Castlemaine,
who, if she had ever loved him, had long since thrown
him aside for the king.

In such an atmosphere of gallantry and intrigue,
it was inevitable that she should eventually become
entangled in an affaire de cceur ; and, wounded by
the coldness of the man she had married, she (too
openly for those scandal-loving times), fell back on the
affection of her own first cousin, James Hamilton.

It needed perhaps the prick of jealousy to open
Lord Chesterfield's eyes to his wife's attractions, and
he soon had cause for it.

At that time they were living in her father's house
at Whitehall, and the Duke of York, afterwards
James II., whose amours at that period of his life
were almost as notorious as the king's, was a frequent
visitor. The duke was a dangerous man ; he pos-
sessed in common with the rest of his family that
extraordinary charm that his grandmother Marie
Stuart left as a fatal inheritance to her descendants.
Moving amongst the noisy crowd with his handsome
face and dignified bearing, and that grave, rare smile
that contrasted so favourably with the mirth and often
brainless laughter of the majority of the court gallants,

4 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

he could not fail to flatter the vanity, if not touch the
heart, of any woman he distinguished with his notice ;
and Lady Chesterfield was both touched and flattered
by the very obvious devotion of his Royal Highness.
She was too ingenuous to conceal her pleasure in his
attentions. Gossip began to be busy with her name,
yet she apparently paid no heed to it, and thereby
awoke another green-eyed monster in her cousin
Hamilton, who, furious at her preference for the
Duke's society, urged Lord Chesterfield to banish
her from London ; and he, not considering perhaps
that the underlying motive of this advice was a
jealousy as bitter and violent as his own, packed her
off to Bretby, his seat in Derbyshire, a beautiful but
lonely spot, where she had ample leisure to reflect on
her folly, and little temptation to further flirtations.

Such a tit-bit of scandal was not likely to escape
the ears of ** little prattling Peeps," and his peerless
diary records, on 3rd November 1662, how Pierce the
chirurgeon tells him that ** The Duke of York is
smitten with love for My Lady Chesterfield (a virtuous
Lady, daughter of D^® of Ormond), and so much that
the Duchess of York has complained to the King and
her Father about it, and my Lady Chesterfield is gone
into the country for it, at all of which I am sorry ; but
it is the effect of idleness and having nothing else to
employ their great spirits upon."

Thus does the kind-hearted little man make
excuses for the pretty lady, whose blue eyes, viewed
from a respectful distance, doubtless had made their
due impression on his susceptible organ.

*' This day I was told the occasion of my L*
Chesterfield's going & taking his lady from Court.

LADY CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS 5

It seems he has long been jealous of the Duke of
York, and did find these two talking together though
there were others in ye room and the Lady by all
opinions a most virtuous good woman. . . . My
Lord did presently pack his Lady into the Country
in Derbyshire near the Peak, w^^ is become a pro-
verb in courts * to send a man's wife to the Peak '
when she vexes him."

His precipitancy in packing his wife off post-
haste to the Peak created, as it well might do, the
most violent excitement at the court. A perfect
passion of sympathy with the imprudent beauty, and
disapproval of her lord's severity, followed her into
her distant retreat. ** And," wrote de Grammont, ** on
regardait avec ^tonnement en Angleterre un homme
qui avait le malhonnetet^ d'etre jaloux de sa femme ! "

In the early days of the Restoration a jealous
husband was simply *' funny," and became the butt
of all the wits in London. For removing his young
wife from the dangerous fascination of the Duke,
Chesterfield committed a solecism which charitable
people sought to make excuses for.

" On excusa le pauvre Chesterfield," says his
descendant, still quoting de Grammont, "as much as
one dared without provoking too much public dislike
on account of the bad education he had had, having
passed many years of his life in Italy, where they
have the evil habit of secluding their wives."

Her ladyship's banishment pleased no one, not
even perhaps the Duchess of York, whose complaint
to the king had raised the storm, for she was a
good-natured woman, and possibly did not mean to
make such a scandal. Two short years deprived

6 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

her of her beautiful rival, and provided her with a
far more objectionable one in her place.

The knowledge of what was going on was pro-
bably what induced Lady Giffard to write the serious
and thoughtful letter on the subject of friendship,
extracts from which have already been quoted (see
Introduction). Judging from the elaborate care with
which she has tried to explain herself, one infers that
Lady Chesterfield has made her some of those half
confidences which are so exceedingly annoying and
perplexing to the recipient, and yet are almost a
necessity in matters of love ; and while not commit-
ting herself to any definite statement, has tried to
test the value of her friendship, and at the same time
sound her views as to how near it was possible to
sail to the wind without suffering shipwreck. Lady
Giffard, reading between the lines, has set herself
conscientiously (and with some courage too, for she
was the younger woman by three years) to administer
some excellent though not very palatable advice,
under the cloak of generalities not too well disguised.

** I have been much unsatisfied with myself," she
writes, **for answering this morning with so little a
consideration to a question that deserves I think
so much from the first thoughts of it (w°^ I must
confess to have received from y' La'^).

** After this confession. Madam, you will not easily
believe me likely to judge rashly upon what may
reasonably be allowed to shake a friendship y* is
once firmly grounded or at least unlikely to condemn
myself for having done so w^^ has been my employ-
ment ever since and though 'tis possible I may
have said the same thing by chance y* my reason

LADY CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS 7

may afterwards represent to me as truest like the
judge y* always tooke his opinions from y* dice in
his closet before he gave it upon y® Bench and
happened by that to grow more famous than those
that were guided by their judgments or their books,
yet I cannot satisfy myself that it was only done well
by chance. But, Madam, I ought to have under-
stood whether 'twas unfortunately you meant, or
deservedly (that I might not trouble you with both)
when you asked me if I thought the loss of reputation
or Honour in the person I had chosen to make a
friend, could justifye the lessening my kindness to
them w^^ I am opinion there are few things in the
world can make allowable, and must confess to think
that whoever should make the first an occasion never
deserved the name of being one. It rather appears
to me one of those misfortunes that as the greatest
sign of a real Friendship ought to engage ones kind-
ness and endeavours in lessening ye affliction if it i
be possible or at least sharing it with them and
repairing it with y* w^^ of all things under Heaven
is the most capable of doing it. The assurance of
the fidelity and constancy of a friend, w^^ is able to
make the greatest misfortune tolerable.

** But all this kindness of one part may reasonably
expect an equal return on the other, y* is all y*
freedome in the Worls in confessing the disaster, as
well as y® occasion of it, whether it proceeds from
ourselves or others, for sure, reservedness can least
of all things consist with a perfect Friendship, it
may do with the shadows of it, w^^ I thinke is all y*
now remains amongst us, and as I think reservedness
to a friend upon any accedent or misfortune though

8 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

y® misfortune no way deserves it may excuse the
lessening one's kindness to them, so I thinke, Madam,
upon y* others part of y' question of those whose
misery proceeds from their own Fault & w** I was
about to say I thought a justifyable occasion of being
unkind to, yet I am apt to believe greate freedom and
openness of their souls would have power to hinder
me from ever leaving them if I were y* Friend. At
least while I discerned in them trouble enough for
y' misfortune to hinder me from suspecting they would
ever be guilty of another, though I know not whether
it be not too greate an expression of my constancy
& good nature and too great a reverence for y* w^^
certainly deserves it mor y° anything in the world
and whether one may not reasonably be allowed to
conclude a person y* had so little care of their Honour
could not have much of their Friend. I am apt to
believe there is something so virtuous and so esteem-
able goes to the making of a perfect friend y* any
one thing meane or unworthy in that person should
incline me to suspect all ye rest and though I value
little what the world says of one in comparison of
that happiness w^^ is so far above all their opinions
can give & therefore never quit my friend because
the world believes she deserves I sh*^ do it, yet I
should have courage enough to venture a misfortune
w°^ I know I have always strength too little to beare."
All this sounds rather cold and judicial, and unless
it was accompanied by some expressions of warmer
regard, and sympathy, t^ recipient would scarcely
have penned the five afiectionate letters that Lady
Giffard treasured. It is only the rough copy of the
little " lecture " that lies ai ong her papers here.

Sir Peter Lely pinxii

LADY CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS 9

Lady Chesterfield had been living for a year and
a half in the great house set in its formal gardens in
far-away Bretby when she wrote the first of these
letters. She had fallen into ill-health and experienced
a touch of the *'vappers," which was certainly to be
expected when one considers the change that had
come suddenly into her life — the contrast of the quiet,
monotonous existence with the glare and glamour of
Whitehall, and the wild dissipations of the wildest
court of Europe at its wildest moment ; and one can
imagine the legions of ** vappers " and megrims that
must have assailed her, although she writes so pluckily
of the ** sattisfaction " her surroundings give her.

Sir William Temple says that good nature is say-
ing things that you think will please others, and good
breeding lies in saying nothing that can hurt or offend
another ; and the poet Walsh thinks that " those
letters are best that show most of these two qualities."
He is right, perhaps, from the point of view of the
recipient, but to the impartial reader a little less of
these excellent ingredients and a little more piquancy
would have added flavour to these amiable letters,
which are almost girlish in their warm expressions of
affection, so quaintly at variance with their sometimes
formal diction.

LETTER I

June the 4/A, 1664.
I am infinitely overjoyed to heare of your safe Arrivall
and now my deare friend I thinke it will not be improper
after the promises you maide me at our parting, to put
you in minde of seeing me heare, to purchasse which
happynesse I would doe anythinge in the worlde, so
passionately I owne my joy, being a selfe lover. Pray by

B

lo LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

the next posst send me word when I may expect you, and
how far you would have my choch to meet you. I heare
a flying report of your being to be married, but to whom
none could tell me. I hope it is not true, it being that which
I would admyre you to deferre as long as your friends
will suffer you. When I left you we weare both of the
same opinion and I hope as yet you have not changed it.
If you have I am one of the inluckiest creaturs alive in
flattering myselfe with the beliefe of injoying your com-
pany which if this be true I shall not. Pray deale clearly
with me, and send me word if I am to credit a report
that assumes a very sensible trouble to — Yours.

Direct your letters to Derby to be sent to Bredbye.
For the Lady Giffard at Mr.

Wing's house over aginst

new street and in St.

Martin's Lane, London.

This letter was written soon after the arrival of
the Temple family in England, and Lady Giffard had
been nearly two years a widow.

Lady Chesterfield was evidently so little in love
with matrimony herself that she had no Inclination to
persuade her friend to re-enter the bonds, and It is
apparent from the tone of the following letter that
Lady Giffard was considerably annoyed at the report
which had got about of the likelihood of such an
event.

LETTER II

My deare Friend, — I am more afflicted then I could
have imagined anything in the world could have maide
me after the recovry of a very troublesome and painful
indisposition, but now that the violence of that is abated
you involve me in a more insupportable trouble then any

LADY CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS ii

I ever felt by the despaire you putt me in of a happynesse
I thought myselfe sure of and instead of using that free-
dome with me that I have ever practised in all my con-
cerns towards you, you now begin to put me with un-
friendly excuses by telling me that though you doe not
thinke Mrs. (Joist ?) the wisest woman in her country yett
you thinke she has not deserved such an enemy as G. O.
that person is so inconsiderable to me when any insinua-
tions of this come in ballance with the affection I have
for you as nothing in the world would be of lesse waite
but I assure you upon my word that I am sertin they
never have as they have not to me, sayed any suche thing
to any body, and if this is not a cruell deniall that you
have made to put me of it is the greatest piece of mallis
in your Informer to G. O. that ever I heard of for to my
knolidg they doe not speak better of any person then they
have done before me of your friend and G. O. has a very
perticular respecte for her but had they the greatest aver-
sion to her imaginable nothing of this should daterre me
from pressing the same request with as much heate as
ever besides I am soe free as to the power of giving that
person all the welcome that they can expect as due to
theare meritt that I am very indifferent wheather G. O.
be satisfied with my choyce or no since I am sure the
only body that I am obliged by duty or inclination to
consider is very extremely well pleased with the Caviller
I have maide him of I thinke the worthyist woman in the
world and to her I bend all my desier and my hopes are
fixed upon her Constance to welcome without reluctance
the promisse you maide so muche in favour of — Yours.

June 17, 1664.

I have a greate many Baux at her service whos com-
pany I desiere, informe yourselfe and send me word when
my choch shall meet her.

My humble service to your sister the country now is
soe pleasant that though my Lord is at London and this

12 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

place is solitary enuff, yett I will sweare I never in my
life parst my time with more sollid satisfaction, pray answer
this as soon as possibly you can for I am impatient to
heare the success of yis bill. Farewell, my deare Friend.

Lucidity of expression was apparently not Lady
Chesterfield's forte, and we must hope and believe
that Lady Giffard, who doubtless possessed the clues
which are denied to us, was able to unravel the mean-
ing of this letter ! " The worthyist woman in the
world " is doubtless Lady Giffard herself, but it is hope-
less to discover who the cavalier is, unless G. O. should
stand for Godolphin, whose name in other letters
of the time was frequently abbreviated to ** Godo," so
why not " G.O." ? The postscript of this letter scarcely
rings true, and is pathetic in its useless insincerity.
Did she really think Lady Giffard would believe that
she was passing her time with so much ** sollid satis-
faction " as she protested, or that '* barbarous London "
contained no more of interest for her than the term
implied ? Was it a futile and transparent effort to
mislead her friend, or was it only a bit of childish
bravado put on to hide the smart ? One inclines to
the latter supposition.

July the ist sees another letter despatched from
Bretby containing more apologies, and more desire
for the company of her ** deare friend," which she is
destined to. be denied again and again. On August
loth the post carried another, always with the same
refrain ; the countess is very persistent, and Lady
Giffard very determined, probably necessarily so, for
she naturally does not care to leave her ** sister,"
Dorothy Temple, at a time when she was most wanted
at home.

LADY CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS 13

LETTER III

July the first 1664.

My dear Friend, — I am extremely troubled to find
by yours of the 20th that I am not to expect the satis-
faction of your company for a long continuance till after
your sister is up again and though I owne I am very
covetious of it sooner, yett I will not be so foolishly fond
of it as to presse you to for so very short a time pray
send me word if you thinke it impossible for your sister
to be persuaded to dispense with your absence while she
lays for if she would be soe selfe denying and so very
obliging to me that longs of all things in the world to
see you I should acknolidg it the greatest generossety for
her imaginable and a very peculiar honour to me as for
what you apprehend of Mrs Scropes power with me to
your prejudice your justification on that poynt is very
unnecessary for I assure you the esteeme & kindnesse
I have for you is much above the civility, I have for
her besides I have so genneral a justice for all persons
as never to condemn any with out indenyable proufs of
theare guiltt but Mrs Scrow (Scrope ?) is so little a person
in my opinion and so sildom in my thoughts that whoever
gave her that information I forgive them though I doe
not remember I told anybody of the kind things she
sayed of me but I will never believe it was you, when
you have thoughts of coming to Bredby send me word
and my choch shall meet you at Northampton to which
place choches com twice a weake so that with all the
conveancey you can wish for you can come heather
send me word by the next posst how you like this
proposition, if you do not theare ar outlier towns you
may your choche to com to, if you have any kind-
nesse for me hassen me the happynesse I beg of for
nobody living loves you so well as — YouRS.

14 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

The Mrs. Scrope whom Lady Giffard has appa-
rently suspected of making mischief between her
and Lady Chesterfield must be, I think, one of the
daughters of the last Lord Scrope of Bolton. Burke
in his extinct ** Peerage " gives this note : ** Emanuel,
Earl of Sunderland and last Baron Scrope, left three
natural daughters, amongst whom the estates of the
Scropes were divided —

" Mary = Hon. Hen. Carey.
Annabella = John Grubbham Howe, Esq.
Elizabeth = Thomas Savage, Earl Rivers."

It is impossible to decide which of these three
Mistress Scropes is alluded to, but Mrs. Howe's name
occurs several times in Lady Giffard's letters thirty
years later to Lady Portland, when she was evidently
an acquaintance or friend of the family.

The infant who, from Lady Chesterfield's point of

view, insisted upon coming into the world at such an

inopportune moment, was John Temple, the only one

of William and Dorothy's seven children who reached

maturity ; he was the sixth child, and his birth gave

the liveliest joy to his parents, proportionate only to

their grief at his tragic death twenty-six years later.

So much sadness had attended the short lives of the'

other five, who, like the babe in the well-known

epitaph,

" Came into the world,

Found nothing worth its stay,
Took but one look
And went on its way,"

that it was no wonder Lady Giffard could not be
tempted to desert her sister-in-law at such a time.
The Temples were living on a small income —

LADY CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS 15

some five or six hundred a year — in their first little
house at Sheen, and Mr. Temple (as he was then)
was spending most of his time in London waiting
for an appointment.

LETTER IV

My deare Friend, — I expected to have heard from
you many possts since in answer to a letter of mine
wherein I desyred to know when I should send my
choch to Northampton for you. I heare it miscarryed
and so am writing againe to trouble you with the same
question. I hope by this time y' sister is brought to
bed and very well and that you will noe longer delaye
me of a happynesse I cannot be satisfied without. I
am now all alone and am like to be soe to my Lord's
bussnyes keeping him in Towne. I knew nothing of
returning in to Ireland and I doe believe I never shall,
being very well settled heare and perfectly contented I
shall be when you will bee soe good as to performe the
promisse you have maide to my deare friend. — Yours.

Aug. the loM, 1664.

After an interval of some months my Lady Chester-
field tries to lure her friend to Wellingborough, where
she is drinking the ** *Watters' which are worse than
any pains." The attractions of the little market-town
do not appear very inviting, and one wonders if her
ladyship dwelt in a tent, as did King Charles I. and
Henrietta Maria when they went there to drink at the
" red well," as they did for several summers.

LETTER V

My deare Friend, — My removal from Bredby to
the Watters wheare I now am and a great deale of com-
pany that left me not till the day I begun my journey

i6 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

heather hindered me ever since I received your lasst
letter from writing to you and this place is so much
duller than that from whence I came that could the
Watters worke a merakle theare is no living in so hott
and durty a place though I did not absolutely despaire of
your having good natur annuffe after living so long in the
barbarous towne of London as wee contry ladeys call it,
to make a jurney heather I would disemble as towne ones
doe, and discover as I have done the facts of, but, without
rallerey I have heard you complain of the spleen and they
all esteeme the watters of this place the best cure of the
vappers of it, which are certinley lesse supportable than
the payne of anything that can be given, pray consid'
ones advice that has lived long enough in a cold mal-
lincoly aire to be perfectly learned in all the poynts of
that Distemper and if you have found the trouble of it as
much as you will seeking to oblige me, send me word that
you will come and be cured with — YouRS forever.

WiLLINGBOROU, 20th of JwtC [1665].

derect your letters to Northampton to be sent on to
me at Willingborrour and I shall sertinley receave theme,
for your greater immitation my Lady Ruthin is within
4 miles of this towne.

The letter is sealed in red wax, with the familiar
coronet and the letters ** E. C." interlaced, and ad-
dressed to —

*'The Lady Giffard,

at Mr. Staces a Taylour
in King Street,

Covent Garden."

The Lady Ruthin whose near neighbourhood is
held out as a bait, was Lady Grey de Ruthin, a
baroness in her own right at the death of her father
in 1648. She had been a girl-friend of Lady Temple's,

LADY CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS 17

and is several times mentioned in her letters, and
always with the greatest admiration and affection.
"'Tis our Hyde Park," writes Dorothy (describing
a country road near Chicksands), '* and every fine
evening, any one that wanted a Mistress would be
sure to find one there. I have wondered often to
meet my Lady Ruthin there alone : methinks it should
be dangerous for an heir. I could find in my heart to
steal her away myself, but rather for her person than
her fortune."

Lady Ruthin married Sir Christopher Yelverton,
whom Dorothy calls ** a pretty little gentleman," and
to whose wooing she says, '* I have given my con-
sent ! so I think we shall have a wedding ere 'tis very
long."

Poor little Lady Chesterfield paid dearly for her
flirtations. She never returned to London, and lived
more or less in retirement, though as long as her lord
was tied to his office of Lord Chamberlain he came
backwards and forwards to Bretby, where they enter-
tained a good many friends. One would like to have
known if Lady Giffard conjured up an attack of
** spleen," and joined her, as she so much desired, at
Wellingborough — one hopes she did, for probably
the poor lady never tasted the unpleasant **watters"
again. No ''merakle" was worked on her behalf,
and before the next summer came round the ** alluring
blue eyes " were closed in death.

She left one little daughter, who eventually married
Lord Strathmore, the fourth earl, and Lord Ches-
terfield married en troisieme noces Lady Elizabeth
Dormer, eldest daughter and co-heir of the Earl of
Carnarvon.

PART II

1664-1665. Charles II

MRS. TEMPLE'S (DOROTHY OSBORNE) LETTERS
TO HER HUSBAND

" All letters, methinks, should be free and easy as one's discourse,
not studied like an oration nor made up of hard words like a charm. 'Tis
an admirable thing to see how some people will labour to find terms that
may obscure a plain sense, like a gentleman I knew who would never say
' the weather grew cold,' but that ' winter begins to salute us.' I have no
patience for such coxcombs, and cannot blame an old uncle of mine who
threw the standish at his man's head because he writ a letter for him,
where instead of saying (as his master bid him) that * he had the gout in
his hand,' he said ' that the gout would not permit him to put pen to
paper.'

" The Fellow thought he had mended it mightily, and that putting pen
to paper was much better than plain writing !"

—Dorothy Osborne (1653).

Dorothy Osborne's many admirers will gladly re-
cognise her hand in the following letters ; and if the
wrong-doings of grooms and stable-boys be of less
interest than the peccadilloes of '* gallants and cox-
combs," they will cheerfully allow that it is not the
writer's fault, but that of circumstances. Legitimate
endearments and confidences of married people must
ever lack the romance that surrounds the restrained
expressions and suggestions of covered fires that
pervade the letters of unauthorised lovers, but the
brightness and charm of the lady of William Temple's
heart shows through them all.

Dorothy's pen was always that of "a ready

18

DOROTHY TEMPLE'S LETTERS 19

writer," and she perfectly carried out her uncle
Francis Osborne's advice to correspondents : " When
business or compliment calls you to write a letter,
consider what is fit to be said were the party present, <
and set it down." Her letters had always been talks
with their recipients — not dull catalogues of events
and diaries of engagements, but the style of corre-
spondence that donne a penser — and it was very much
her habit to follow another precept of her scholarly
uncle, ''to find the way to elegancies of style by
employing her pen on every errand," not forgetting
that ''the more trivial and dry it is, the more brains
must be allowed for sauce."

Dorothy Temple's brains were of a fine quality,
and the sauce of her correspondence was of the most
piquant e.

Sheen

" Get ye gone to Sheen," said King Charles good-
humouredly, on the occasion of his offering Temple
the seals of Secretary of State in 1677, " we shall get
no good of you till you have been there ! "

The vague term ** Sheen " has hitherto always
stood for the first English home of the William
Temples. Often in his Memoirs and Letters Sir
William speaks of his *' little corner of Sheen" where
his heart is set, and "the possession of which makes
no disappointments seem great." John Evelyn went
to see him "at Sheen." King William visited the
Temples "at Sheen." The Duchess of Somerset
called on her friends '* at Sheen ; " Swift lived with
the family ** at Sheen ; " it was always vaguely
" Sheen ! " Sheen ! Sheen ! but where — in what

20 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

part of Sheen — nobody knew. Writers have puzzled
for many decades over the meagre information the
term has given them, and few if any of the people
who have written about the Temples (in whom there
is apparently a perennial interest) know that Rich-
mond was once called *' Sheen." This made the area
in which to seek the lost ''corner" larger, but local
antiquaries and topographists have located it at last
on the site of the present observatory there, and Mr.
Beresford Chancellor in his '* History and Antiquities
of Richmond" gives the ** pedigree" of the place,
which was originally a monastery for forty monks.

These seven letters from Mrs. Temple to her
husband must have been written from Sheen early in
the year 1665, while he was gadding about the town
en garfOfty and making friends with the pullers of
wires and chief players in the game of politics. They
show us how little different from the Dorothy we
knew as a girl was this Dorothy, the wife, and the
owner of five little graves in the green island over
the sea. The letters show us that she has kept the
resolution she made in the days of their engagement
that her love for him should never stand in his way,
or drag him back as she has known that of other
wives do. She has let her ''best Deare Hearte"
go away from her into the gayest and maddest of
cities without complaint, and when he stays over long
she only chides him in her playful way, and makes
fun of his probably very unfounded complaint that
her letters are too short or too cold. ** But now I
remember jme you would have such letters as I used
to write before we married, there are many such in
your cabinet." (So even then in those early days he

DOROTHY TEMPLE'S LETTERS 21

kept her letters in his ** cabinet," where some of them
still lie.) She brings out, too, the old family joke
we remember hearing of before, of her brother's gibes
that she had more ** kindness for her lover than he
had for her," and that after they were married he
would reproach her for it.

''Jack" was born in 1663-4, after they left
Ireland, and must have been now little more than
a year old. There is no allusion to Lady Giffard in
any of these letters, so they must, I think, have been
written during one of her short absences, or she surely
would have had some message to send her brother.

The description of the importance of Mr. Mayor,
and the quality of his ruff, reminds us of the
"Emperor" of the old days, one of Lady Temple's
rejected suitors ; just such a man with just such a
ruff the words conjure up.

Dorothy had long since made her husband ac-
quainted with her requirements in a partner for life.
As long ago as 1653 she regaled him with her views,
which might have frightened some of her more timid
adorers away ; for many of them might have re-
cognised their own shortcomings in the attributes
this difficult damsel ''would have none of," had they
been possessed of that very doubtful blessing which
no one but the most self-satisfied of mortals can
honestly desire — the gift of " seeing ourselves as others
see us."

But the picture was drawn in delicate flattery to
Temple, and it required no fairy gifts to read between
the lines !

" There are a great many ingredients that must
go to the making me happy in a husband. First,

22 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

as my cousin Franklin says, our humours must
agree, and to doe that he must have the same kind
of breeding that I have, and used to that kind of
company. That is, he must not be so much of a
country gentleman as to understand nothing but
hawks and dogs, and be fonder of either than his
wife ; nor of the next sorte of them whose aim reaches
no further than to be Justice of the Peace and once
in his life High Sheriff, who reads no books but
Statutes and studies nothing but how to make a
speech interlaced with Latin that may amaze his
disagreeing poor neighbours and fright them rather
than persuade them into quietness. He must not
be a thing that began the world in a free school,
was sent from thence to the University, and at his
furthest, when he reaches the Inns of Court, has no
acquaintances but those of his form in these places,
speaks the French he has picked out of old laws,
and admires nothing but the stories he has heard
of the revels that were kept there before his time.

** He must not be a town gallant neither, that
cannot imagine how an hour should be spent with-
out company unless it be in sleeping, and making
court to all the women he sees, thinking they believe
him, and laughs, and is laughed at equally. Nor a
travelled Monsieur whose head is all feather inside
and outside and can talk of nothing but dancing and
duels, and has courage to wear slashes when every
one else dyes of cold to see him. He must not be
a fool of noe sort. Nor peevish nor ill-natured, nor
proud nor covetous, and to all this must be added that
he must love me and I him as much as we are capable
of loving. Without all this his fortune though never

DOROTHY TEMPLE'S LETTERS 23

soe great would not satisfye me, and with it a very
moderate one would keep me from ever repenting my
disposal."

The inverted picture of her ideal husband is extra-
ordinarily clever, and shows how thoroughly she read
the character of the man she had promised to marry.
The inverse is Temple to the life ; and in some of the
points she insists upon as unallowable, she puts her
fingers on his weak parts, which she can really have
scarcely more than guessed at. Certainly, as he
ticked off the points (which it is conceivable that he
did) he must have smiled as he recognised himself.
Unquestionably their *' humours agreed," and if they
had not had quite the same sort of breeding, they
belonged to the same social status, and moved in the
same circles. He was assuredly not of the type of
country gentleman that she objected to ; though very
fond of horses, he cared little for hawks and dogs as
far as we know, and his ambitions reached further
than the High Sheriff once in a lifetime.

The books he read for pleasure were very unlike
statutes, but romances of the most sentimental order ;
he did not begin his life in a free school, but he did
go to the University and was ** bred to the law" ; the
French he spoke was not archaic, and the stories he
liked were much what she did, amusing bits of gossip
and on dits of the day. He certainly played at one
time the ''town gallant," but he neither ** lived at a
tavern" nor was ''wretched without company," being
always very fond of his own society. If he did make
love to any fair ladies, he was not so foolish as to
make Dorothy jealous ; and though he had travelled
a good cjeal* he was not alw^^ys bragging of his

24 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

adventures. He was quiet and ** exact" in his dress,
his sister tells us. He certainly was no fool, though
sometimes peevish, nor ill-natured nor discourteous.
About the pride there may be two opinions, but
one thing was certain — he loved his '* Mistress " and
she him **with all the love they were capable of,"
and that was saying a great deal ; and Dorothy, for
all her brother's gibes, felt quite safe in the knowledge
that he would never treat her as her typical squire
might have done —

" When his passion had run its novel course,
A little nearer than his dog, a little dearer than his horse."

When she addressed these *' scrips " to him they
had been married twelve years ; it is plain that he had
not disappointed her.

Among the people herein mentioned, students of
** Dorothy Osborne's Letters " will recognise several
old friends. There is *' Jane," who called herself
Sir William's ''fellow servant" in the early days of
their courtship. Lady Temple was very much
attached to *' Jane," who was one of the Chicksands
household, and was equally useful as a duenna, maker
of marmalades or purveyor of prohibited sweets in
the form of love-letters ; she was sister to Mrs.
Goldsmith, the wife of the Rector of Chicksands.
These letters show that she continued to stay if not
live with Dorothy after she married. *' My Aunt "
was probably Lady Danvers, her mother's sister.
She had married as his third wife Sir John Danvers
the regicide, whom Dorothy derisively called " my
precious Uncle."

They lived in a beautiful house at Battersea near

Facsimile of Lady Temple's Handwriting

DOROTHY TEMPLE'S LETTERS 25

old Chelsea Church, and close to the river in the near

neighbourhood of Sir Thomas More's house. It

was a '* sumptuous " abode enriched with marbles and

standing in a beautiful garden in the Italian style.

The identity of the ill-conditioned boy is undiscover-

able.

LETTER I

My Dearest Heart, — Forby did me great wrong
in not delivering the long scrip I sent you, I know if you
had seen it before you writt yours would have bin some-
thing longer than it is. But I am thankful however ; and
indeed you sent mee very good news, of my Aunt's stay
in Towne for the thought of that journey was not very
pleasant to me. I am glad you have found a footman
too, and Tom shall bee sent up as you appoint, but how
will you doe to returne your money. I am in some paine
for you. Mr. Lawfort has made up a bill of ^15 od
money, £$ wee had before and ^^5 now, and the linnen
with some od things you had, buttons, and silke, &c.
I sent to our neighbour Mr. Osgood to know if hee could
help us, but hee is not provided at present hee says. I doe
not think but Mr. Ward of Newgate Markett could doe it,
he has acquaintance heare for I have had letters sent mee
from him by Townsmen, if you have any from Irelande
pray let me have them to entertaine my self e withall till
you come. It seems tis true that my Aunt Temple comes
away for my cousin Mary Hammond writes my Aunt
word yt she and my Lady Waller were at Battersay to see
my Uncle and where they told her they expected her very
suddenly. Poore woman I am sorry for her, tis certain
the dread of us that frights her away.

Jack is invited to Coly a-shroving, but my Lady says
she believes she is never to see you there, I sayed what
I could to excuse you, but you are concluded the arrantist
gadder in ye country, none matter though my deare I
love you for all that see you will hast home againe.

D

26 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

Doe you mean to look for some lodgings and roome
to lay our goods in that must be thought on. I '< memed "
to stand out of harms way when the Great Wall fell
downe. Here come Creeper that will let me say no more
but that we are both yours. If Tom goes remember
Mrs. Fountains hood.

The allusion to the difficulties of conveying money
from one person to another, which occurs so frequently
in contemporary letters, gives one an idea of what
an inestimable boon the starting of the Bank of
England must have been some twenty-eight years
later.

Charles and his ministers never paid, on principle,
any one who did not ask for their promised wage,
and subsequent events showed that but for his wife.
Temple (once safe away on the other side of the
Channel) would have been left without funds ; but
Dorothy summoned Sir William Godolphin and her
cousin Sir Thomas Osborne and others to her assist-
ance, and shamed or coaxed the authorities into pro-
viding the sinews of war. She had not run the
Chicksands establishment without acquiring some use-
ful knowledge of business, and Temple, it is seen,
entrusted her with his monetary affairs.

This mention of *' my Aunt Temple " is the only
one I have ever seen in any memoirs of the family.
She must have been either an unmarried sister of
Sir John's or the wife of his brother ; whoever she
was, she had not the happiest of relations with the
family at Sheen, neither is it particularly clear from
whence the dread of them has ** frighted her away."

**My Lady Waller" was probably the widow of
the Royalist general, Sir William Waller.

DOROTHY TEMPLE'S LETTERS 27

Little Jack's invitation to go "a-shroving" settles
the approximate date of this letter ; it must obviously
have been written just before the beginning of Lent.
"Shroving" in England was what the carnival was
abroad — all sorts of quaint customs and mummery-
took place on Shrove Tuesday, and it is curious to
think that even then Westminster boys were tossing
pancakes over the beam as they do religiously to-day.

Coly, or Colney, Park, was the seat of Sir John
Vachell. At Coly-cross Edward V. met the loyal
mayor and aldermen of Reading. Coley House
Charles L made his headquarters after the first
battle of Newbury (May 16, 1644), staying there
three nights himself before going to Sheen. The
Temples were some little time at Reading, where,
if they did not already know them, they doubtless
made friends with the Vachell family.

LETTER II

Tis mighty well too that I have sett upon thorns these
two howers for this sweet scrip full of reproaches.

Pray what did you expect I should have writt, tell me
that I may know how to please you next time.

But now I remember me you would have such letters
as I used to write before we were marryed, there are a
great many such in your cabinet yt. I can send you if
you please but none in my head I can assure you. Tis
not the great abondance of diversion I finde heer though,
nor want of any kindnesse (I think) that hinders mee
from being just what I was then, but a dullnesse yt I
can give no accounte of and that I am not displeased
with but for your sake and because it is many times an
occasion of the making good one of my Brothers propheys

28 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

whoe used to tell mee often I had more kindnesse for you
then became mee, and that I might assure myselfe if I
ever came to bee your wife you would reproach mee
wth. it, I might perhaps though been something more
dull than ordinary when I writt last for as I remember
I was sleepy too and not soe much with sitting up late
as with rising early wch I have done every since you
went either because I am weary of my bed or that tis
good to make me leane again ; but know soe little what
to doe wth myselfe when I am up that I am fain to send
for Jack into my chamber, see him drest there, and when
I am weary of playing with him go to work for him,
but alasse, he has a greate defecte his coate was made
and I had gott him linnen redy to weare with it but
Mrs Carter has sent him noe shoes and stockings I
believe twas Tom's fault that did not carry her Jane's
letter soone enough. You tell mee nothing of my Aunt
nor of my cousin Thorolde. I suppose tis that you have
not seen any of them yett.

I shall observe your orders tomorrow and write to
you againe on Monday tis like to bee a great faire they
say something more then ordinary sure it will bee or else
Mr, Mayor and his Brethren would mere have put them-
selves to the trouble of comeing all to my Aunt two dayes
agon. Do tell her that they would pull downe our friend
Mrs Harrisons hedge to make roome for it they threatened
her garden too and question her right to the ffishing and
the hundred eggs. Mighty hott words past and many more
then the buisnesse was worth I thought but that the
gravity of Mr. Mayor's ruffe bore it out soe well would
I could borrow it to sent with this letter for tis as little
to the purpose mee thinks as all that hee sayed, see what
you get by putting mee upon long letters if you confesse
it you are glad with all your heart to finde yourselfe soe
near the end on't. Good night to you my dearest. — I
am, your, D. Temple.

DOROTHY TEMPLE'S LETTERS 29

Though she would have rather died than have
called him home unless she was convinced that he
would lose nothing in coming, Dorothy's patience had
been severely strained, and her courage was low when
she wrote this letter ; the dulness and solitude were
doing their work, and little Jack, sweet baby that he
was, was no substitute for her husband's sympathetic
presence. Dorothy at no period of her life had any
predilection for vegetating, though she was sometimes
obliged to do so ; her active mind made her desire to
**live" every moment of her existence, and in after
years when Sir William Temple was eager to retire
from the world and **chew the cud" of a well-stored
mind, nothing but the shrinking of a broken heart
could have made her willingly seek such banishment
as that of Moor Park. Yet Dorothy was no mon-
daine ; the rush and excitement of noise and crowds
gave her little pleasure; it was the "give-and-take"
between friends, the chance meeting of kindred spirits,
and the pleasant interchange of thoughts and ideas
that made the joy of her life. She was fully alive to
her own powers of intellect and charm (how could it
be otherwise with the long procession of lovers that
came and went at Chicksands during her girlhood to
make her aware of them !), and she would not have
been human if, in the lonely hours at Sheen when the
** Creeper" was slumbering in his cot, she had not
felt herself wasted there. But changes were in the
air, and she soon had the opportunity of shining in a
more congenial society than London afforded in the
Merry Monarch's reign.

"Cousin Thorolde" was a widow lady and an
occasional visitor to Chicksands in days gone by.

30 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

There is a mention of her in one of Dorothy's letters
to Temple in 1653 ; apparently her conversation was
not of a wildly exciting type, nor her company indis-
pensable, neither was she a friend to Temple's suit.

" My Brother is gone to wait upon the Widow, she
that was born to parsecute you and I, I think. She
has so tired me being here two or three days that I do
not think I shall accept of the offer she makes me of
living with her in case my Father dies before I have
disposed of myself. Yet we are great friends," she
continues with that irrepressible touch of satire that
her sense of humour never could resist, ** and for my
comfort she says she will come again at the latter end
of June and stay longer with me."

Mrs. Carter's identity must remain shrouded in
mystery ; whether she is the laundress or the hosier,
or a personal friend, there is nothing to prove, and it
is moreover very immaterial. One thing only we
know, that she omitted to send the dear little
** Creeper " (probably his first) shoes and stockings.

Mrs. Fountain, whose hood *' Tom " is to remem-
ber, might be equally a friend or dependant. The
Temples of a later generation were intimate with the
Fountaines of Narford, and she may well have been
one of that family.

" Tom " was Temple's valet or manservant.

LETTER III

My dearest Heart, — After all Mr. Mayor's prepara-
tions 'twas a very poore faire, not a good horse in't
besydes Sawyers Teame in wch was the mare hee told
you of and he brought her down to the stable to match

DOROTHY TEMPLE'S LETTERS 31

her with, my aunts and she doe very well together hee
says but I did not see it for though I sent twenty messen-
gers to him Sadler would not come neer mee all the faire
day but sent mee word at night what hee had don wch
was that on Satturday next heer would come two mares
for you to see. Today I sent for him again and hee tells
mee the mares are both Sawyers, both 4 years old and
full as large as my aunts' and the same couler and will
both come to about £30y one of them hee has bin offered
^16 for and hee takes her to be better than my Aunts
and if you like them you may hav them if not thers noe
harm don, hee is not fond of selling them ; I have seen
the young fellow hee looks plain and honest will under-
take he sayes to look to your 4 horses very well and
with as much care as any man. Sadler commends him
mightily hee drove his Brother's coach the Gloucester
road a great while, he asks ;£i2 a year and cannott take
under hee says. Hee had as much at Sadler's Brother
and has as good as £16 where he now is. Sadler and
hee goe by together tomorrow, then you may see him and
sattisfye yourself but with all this I must tell you too that
they say Sadler is generally taken notice on for a Gift he
had of lyeinge and therefor what his Mares will come to
I cannot tell. Can you tell me when you intend to come
home, would you would, I should take it mighty kindly
good deare make hast I am as weary as a dog without
his Master, your poore Jack is all the entertainment I
have hee men's his little duty and grows and thrives every
day. When the sun shines his mayde has him abroad to
use him to goe to Coly upon a solemn invitation. My
deare Hearte bee sure I have a scrip by Tuesday's coach
and noe reproaches remember that indeed I don't deserve
them I thinke for I am sure I infintely love my dearest
dear heart and am his. D. Temple.

We see by this letter that horse - dealing was
carried on then much as it is now, and that ail was

32 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

considered " fair in love and war," and if the seller
could take in the buyer he was no " knave " but
a "fine fellow," and the other was a "fool" in
the opinion of every one except the unfortunate
dupe.

Dorothy Temple was sharp enough in most things,
but she was no match for a horse-dealer, and there
is not the shadow of a doubt but that she was " done "
over the mares as well as over their groom who
looked so "plain and honestly." Mr. Sadler's **gift
for lying " evidently had not deserted him, and one
does not wonder, after reading the last but one of
these letters, that he could not be induced to come
near Mrs. Temple all the Fair-day !

LETTER IV

My best dear Heart, — How kindly I take this little
scrip you sent mee ; deed my dear you shall never want one
as longe as I have fingers to write yet never trust me if I
know what to tell thee besydes yt wee are all well heer
and were at the fall of the great wall today.

I could have cryed over it mee thoughts it fell soe
solemnly and with soe good a grace after it had stood
out all their Batterys soe long, and met with the same
fate yt all the great things in the world doe when they
fall. The People shouted at it and were pleased, ran in
to trample out because 'twas down treading where they
durst not have sett a foot whilst it was up.

Well the man has a huge Bargain on't there is I am
confident five times more free stone in't than anybody
could have imagined but all this is nothing to your Mares
and truth is my deare I can give you but a slender
accounte of them. I hope they are well (and soe forth)
but 'tis soe durty I cannot goe down to the stable

DOROTHY TEMPLE'S LETTERS 33

and Tom is resolved I shall see him noe more I think
for I have not don it since you went ; today indeed hee
took his Phisick and so kept his Chamber but where he
bestowed himself all yesterday I know not ; Jane is at an
end of all her patience with him too for it seems Robins
Mr. seeing his letters open read them and Robin took yt
soe ill yt they went together by the ears aboute it and
great disorders it has caused, but those are common
things. I thought wee should have seen a combatt
between my poor Aunt and her grandsonne tonight.
They fell out soe terribly at cards and doe you thinke
that rude boy should have the confidence to throw up
his cards in a snuffe (after he had disputed it with her
halfe an houre) and say hee would play noe more because
when hee has dealt twice shee told him on't and would
have the cards to deal herselfe as 'twas her turn. Ah !
my deare if son Jack should doe such things sure I should
make bold to beat him as long as I were able, but poor
childe hee looks soe honestly I know hee never will, deed
my Hearte 'tis the quietest best little boy yt ever was borne
I'm affray'd hee'l make mee grow fond of him doe what
I can the only way to keep mee from it is for you to
keep at home for when I am here with him now hee is
all my entertainment besydes what I finde in thinking of
my dearest and wishing him wth his D. Temple.

The foregoing letter may have been good evi-
dence years afterwards, in the quarrel between Sir
William and Lord Brouncker, over the wall which
divided that portion of *' Sheen " which Brouncker
had purchased of Lord Bellaysis from the rest of it
belonging to Lord Lisle, where the Temples were
now living, and which afterwards became by purchase
their property.

This house was in an enclosure called Crowne
Court. This enclosure contained other houses, two

E

34 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

more of which Sir William afterwards purchased.
The Court was surrounded on three sides by high
walls, one of which was not considered safe in 1666,
and in the words of the legal document prepared for
the Temple-Brouncker lawsuit of 1683, **it fayled,"
and was ** newly raysed" by agreement between Lord
Bellaysis and Lord Lisle. On the fourth side, the
Court was protected by the river Thames, on the
banks of which Sir William made his garden, and
where Gerard found the ** wild clery good for weak
eyes/' when he was making his '' herbal."

For this beloved ** corner of Sheen" its owner
brought over from Holland the best of cherry and
orange trees, and several kinds of vines, all of which
did well, and their ** descendants," if not some of
the original trees, were transplanted to Moor Park
in later days.

Evelyn, who visits him in August 1677, in com-
pany with Lord Brouncker, whose satirical remarks
tinge his criticism, says, speaking of the *' pretty villas"
and fine gardens of the enclosure, that in Sir William's
garden he saw the best trained fruit-trees he ever
beheld, some most excellent peaches, and good pic-
tures and statues, ** though not so fine as their owner
thinks them."

That it is the fall of this old part of the great wall
preparatory to rebuilding it that the writer tells of in
her letter, it is plausible to suppose, and her descrip-
tion of it is a truly characteristic one.

The fall of a wall, like the fall of a tree, has in it
an element of majesty and tragedy. Who can see
unmoved a great tree cut through at the foot, poised for
one brief moment in mid-air, and then fall with a crash,

DOROTHY TEMPLE'S LETTERS 35

its lesser branches breaking into a thousand pieces ;
or watch a great wall lean and sway, lose its balance,
and curving over, break with a resounding roar, like
a wave of the sea on the rocks? Not Dorothy-
Temple! — though she little thought, when she watched
it fall with '* so good a grace," with how bad a grace
the " new wall," raised out of its ruin, was to be broken
into in days to come.

How the spirit of the times spoke to her through
the action of the people! The "Usurper" was not
long dead, and many of them remembered the joy
of mutilating statues, and breaking stained - glass
windows. Nor did the other lookers-on forget the
crime of 1649 •

The mob, no doubt, was thoroughly enjoying itself
(and this time harmlessly enough), while Dorothy
read her little parable in their delight at the destruc-
tion of property, their eager trampling on the ** fallen
great."

The portion of the letters that relate to little John
have a sad significance. His mother was afraid to
''grow fond of him," afraid to let the gentle little
fellow, who was the ''best little boy that ever she
knew," twine himself too closely round her heart-
strings, lest he too should be taken away.

Dorothy was teaching herself the stern lesson we
all must learn, of the futility of setting up idols ; they
are always — or almost always — " broken to our faces,"
and this idol (if such he was) was to break with a
louder crash than all.

36 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

LETTER V

My dearest best Heart, — I saw your new man
today and heard him to my cost. Ah, 'tis a sad storry
my deare but he says your best Mare is good for nothing
she has the glanders extrenely and a soare heel wch
the farrier says is a surfett she has had wch that nowe
breaks out there ; is not Sawyer bound to take her againe
yt warranted her sounde to you Sadler that knave knewe
what she was before I believe for hee will not come neer
mee though I have sent twice for him today I thought
fitt to lett you know it before you came downe yt. you
might consider what you had to doe, I am affrayde it will
disorder us a little ; John found it as soone as ever hee
saw her I believe the fellow has good skill in horses
he look very honestly too and like to make a good servant
I think. I gave Jack the kiss you sent him and he mems
little duty and gave mee another for you wch you shall
have as soone as you come home and twenty more from
Your D. T.

LETTER VI

My dearest Heart, — 'Twas kindly don not to forget
my scrips. I wayted for it all day and would not have
missed it for two such basketts of grapes as cam wth
it though they were excellent good ones. I will bee very
carefull of myselfe and my Aunt dos assure mee I cannot
misse of a good midwife in the Towne whenever I shall
have occasion for her. Your horses shall be looked to
too as well as William and I and Jane and Mrs. Gold-
smith can doe it, for wee understand it much alike
mee thinks. I wish my Aunt's businesse a happy de-
spatch, and my dearest home again with his

D. Temple.

DOROTHY TEMPLE'S LETTERS 37

LETTER VII

My dearest Heart, — I send you heer a letter that
will amaze you I believe as muche as it did mee, but
tis most happy that hee is thus discovered before hee has
don a worse mischiefe. Rid your hands of him quickly
for God's sake since I knew this I have broken open his
boxe but found nothing there but his owne things, his new
sute and most of his linnen, unlesse it bee the cape of
your plush cloak wch I have sent lest you might want it.
Poor Mr. Rolles brought this letter through all the rain
to-day. My dear dear heart make haste home, I doe soe
want thee that I cannot imagine how I did so endure
your being soe long away when your businesse was in
hande. — Goodnight my dearest, I am, Yours D. T.

Lady Temple was one of those women, less rare
than novelists would have us believe, who are equally
attractive to men and women. We know the women-
friends of her youth from the frequent mention of
them in her letters — Lady Diana Rich, Lady Ruthin,
**my pretty niece Dorothy Peyton," &c. &c. Later
in life one may mention Lady Sunderland, and Queen
Mary, whose marriage she had practically arranged,
and who must have hated her so for it! though she
loved her dearly before, and ever after. Among her
most ardent female adorers was the Welsh poetess,
Kate Philips of Porthynon. '* The most ardently
admired Mrs. Katherine Philips, the matchless
Orinda," as her editor calls her, whose tragic death
from smallpox at the age of thirty-two cut short the
career of an unusually brilliant woman, an English
'^ bas-bleu'' and one who, if she had had the good
fortune to have been born a Frenchwoman, might

38 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

perhaps have shone as a star of the first magnitude
among the p7'dcieuses at the Hotel Rambouillet.

Lady Giffard's care has preserved a letter from
this lady, written but a month before her death, to Lady
(then Mrs.) Temple, whom she beseeches to admit her
to a greater familiarity and friendship than she has
hitherto enjoyed, and speaking of her intense desire
that " Mr. Philips " will take her to London, so that
she can enjoy the ** conversation of her friends," and
not be left too long to the ** melancholy silence"
of the mountains and rivers which surrounded her
home in Wales.

" Mrs, Kate Philips letter^ under the name of Orinda^ to
Sr, Wm. Temple s LadyJ'

For my highly honour'd Mrs. Temple att her lodgings
at Mr. Winns house

neare the horse-shoe in
St. Martin's Lane
London.

Jan. 22, 1664.

Deare Madam, — You treat me in your letters so
much to my advantage and above my merit that 1 am
almost affray'd to tell you how exceedingly I am pleased
with them lesst you should attribute yt contentment to
ye delight I take in being praised whereas I am extreamely
deceived if that be ye ground of it, though I confess
it is not free from vanity. I cannot choose but be proud
of being own'd by soe valuable a person as you are, and
one whom all my inclinations carry me to honour and
love at a very great rate, and you will find by the trouble
I last gave you of this kind how impossible it will be
for you to be rid of an importunity which you have much
encourag'd and how much your late silence alarm'd one

MRS. KATE PHILIPS' LETTERS 39

yt is so much concern'd for ye honour you doe her
in allowing her to hope you will frequently let her know
she hath some room in yr particular favour, I hope you
have pardon'd me that complaint and allow'd a little
jealousy to the great passion I have for you and that
I shall with some more assurance come to thank you
for this last favour of 12th instant, and must beg you
to believe that if my convent were in Cataya and I a
recluse by vow to it, yet I should never attain mortifica-
tion enough to be able willingly to deny myself the great
entertainment of your correspondance, which seems to
remove me out of a solitary religious house on ye moun-
tains and place me in the most advantageous prospect
upon both court and town and give me right to a better
place than of either, and that madam is your friendship,
which is so great a present, that there is but one way
to make it more valuable and yt is by making it less
ceremonious and by using me with a freedom that may
give me more access into your heart and this beg from
you with a great earnestness, and will promise you that
whatsoever liberties of that kind you allow me, yt I will
never so much abase that goodness as to press mine own
advantages further than you shall permit or lessen any
of the respect I ow you, by the less formal approaches
I desire to make to you who though I esteem above most
of ye world yet I love yet more.

I believe ere this you have seen the new Pompey
either acted or written and then will repeat your partial-
lity to ye others, but I wonder much what preparations
for it could prejudice Will Davenant when I hear they
acted in English habits and yt so a propos yt Cesar was
sent in with a feather and a staff till he was hissed off ye
stage and for ye scenes I do not see where they could
place any that are very extraordinary but if this play hath
not diverted the Citizens wives enough Sr. W. D. will
make them amends for they say Harry the 8th and some
later ones are little better than puppet plays. I understand

40 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

ye confederate translators are now upon Heraclins and
I am contented that Sir Thos. Clarges who hath done
that last year, should adorn this triumph in it as I have
done in Pompey, for I defy Heraclius ? and all his works,
having so unfortunately piqu'd Mr. Waller yt he was
pleased to speak of me with as little generosity to ye King
as he once did of Sacharissa to ye Parliament and I fear
his displeasure is no wit abated since ye King's and
Queen's so gracious reception of those verses you mention
upon her majesties recovery and though this advantageous
opinion might have given me some vanity yet He assure
you Madam yours gave me more and though I never writt
anything with more distrust of myself yt since you think
them worthy of so favourable a mention I will submit my
judgement to you and rather think it possible that I might
hit something in them ^ot unluckily then that you could
be unsincere to one you are pleased so generously to own.
You see how much I depend upon what you say and
therefore you ought in honour never to use me with
compliment.

I am glad of the news of ye Duchesses recovery and
the other victory you mention at Court for though it be
but changing our pack of cards for another yet time and
inconstancy together may at last fix yt passion where it
ought to be. I think the conquered rivall has done well
in the change of her principles, for I wonder all ladies of
her morality are not of a religion which provides them soe
many shorter ways to heaven than repentance and when at
the wane of their fortune they may retire into a Cloyster
and persuade ye worlde yt the shame of their disgrace
is only ye devotion of their souls and soe make a virtue
of necessity. I am much obliged to anybody for enquiring
where I am and indeed if I could give any account of
what I doe here I should be better satiffy'd but I am good
for nothing everywhere and you will have a hard task to
prove there is better company where there is neither ye
conversation of towns nor ye innocency of ye fields but

MRS. KATE PHILIPS' LETTERS 41

a certain kind of busy drudgery to ye world of Fashion
for that pittiful nothing that men call pre-eminence with
the combined incursions of people who can neither speak
nor hold their tongue and yet I could endure the sight
of all this here rather than be any more embarquee dans
une affaire si mechante as ye combatting gyants, and
seeing them devour ye reputations of ye innocent, if I
did not consider that by coming to the place where these
things are I shall be nearer ye conversation of some
particular excellent friends (among whom I assure you
Mrs. Temple has a most eminent room) which may both
improve and delight me and they so much (byass) my
inclination that I cannot but wish Mr. Philips his occa-
sions may permit him to give me yt opportunity this
spring and if they doe you are sure to be tormented with
me soe much yt I think you are concerned to wish they
may not, but in earnest for aught I perceive, I must never
show any face there or among any reasonable people
again, for some most dishonest person hath got some
collection of my Poems as I heare, and hath deliver'd
them to a Printer who I heare is just upon putting them
out and this hath soe extreamly disturbed me, both to
have my private folly so unhandsomely exposed and ye
behef that I believe the most part of ye worlde are apt
enough to believe yt I connived at this ugly accident that
I have been on ye rack ever since I heard it, though I
have written to Col. Jeffries who first sent me word of it
to get ye Printer punished, the book called in, and me
some way publickly vindicated yet I shall need all my
friends to be my champions to ye criticall and mallicious
that I am soe innocent of this pittiful design of a knave
to get a groat that I never was more vexed at anything
and yt I utterly disclaim whatever he hath soe unhand-
somely expos'd. I know you have goodness and generosity
enough to doe me this right in your company and to give
me your opinion too how I may best get this impression
suppressed and myself vindicated and therefore I will not

F

42 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

beg your pardon for troubling you with this impertinent
story nor for so long an harangue as this, the truth is
I would fain by example if I can not by importunity,
induce you to yt freedom which is begged of you as soe
necessary to ye happinesse of

my D : deare Madam, Your most faithful servant

Orinda.
To Mr. Temple my humble service I beg.

It was during this visit, so eagerly anticipated, that
she met her death. Cowley, Lord Orrerry, James
Tyrrell, and Flaxman perpetuated her memory in
mournful verse ; and Sir William Temple, at the desire
of his wife and sister, summoned his not always ready
muse and composed some lines in her honour.

Some of Mrs. Philips' verses on ** Friendship" are
very charming, and appeal to us to-day just as they
did to her friends when she wrote them.

Extracts from a Poem on "Friendship."

" Friendship doth carry more than common trust.

And treachery is here the greatest sin.
Secrets deposed there none ever must

Presume to open, but who put them in.
They that in one chest lay up all their stock
Had need be sure that none can pick the lock.

A breast too open Friendship does not love.

For that others' trust will not conceal ;
Nor one too much reserved can it approve.

Its own condition this will not reveal.
We empty passions for a double end.
To be refreshed and guarded by a friend.

Thick waters show us images of things.

Friends are each others' mirrors and should be
Clearer than crystal or the mountain springs,

And free from clouds, design or flattery.
For vulgar souls no part of friendship share ;
Poets and friends are born to what they are."

I

MRS. KATE PHILIPS' LETTERS 43

She is more pleasing when she writes in this
simple way than when she plays the laureate, and
commemorates historical events or addresses odes
to queens and princes, when her pathos is apt to
degenerate into bathos.

The following is an extract from the ode to
Queen Catherine, on her sickness and recovery in
1662, on the gracious acceptance of which Lady
Temple has evidently congratulated her: —

" Some dying Princes have their servants slain
That after Death they might not want a train.
Such cruelty were here a needless sin,
For had our fatal fears prophetic been.
Sorrow alone that service would have done
And you by nations had been waited on.
Your danger was in every village seen.
And only yours was quiet and serene.
But all our zealous grief had been in vain
Had not Great Charles called you back again,
Who did your suff rings with such pain discern —
He lost three kingdoms once with less concern.
La'bring your safety he neglected his
Nor feared he death in any shape but this.
His genius did the bold distemper tame
And his rich tears quench'd the rebellious flame.
At once the Thracian Hero lov'd and griev'd
Till his lost felicity receiv'd,
And with the moving accents of his woe
His spouse recovered from the shades below,
And to his happy Passion we have been
Now twice obliged for so adored a queen.
But how severe a choice had you to make
When you must Heaven delay or him forsake ! "

All this is very pretty and very flattering, but
one cannot help thinking that the dear lady wrote
with unintentional irony, and that the fear that "was
on every visage seen" was not that the poor little
unloved, childless queen should die, but lest she

44 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

should live! and that had she really died, the grief
of the nation might not have provided her with
such a numberless train of self-immolating followers
as the poetess expected. It is not unlikely that
when the poor plain face in its bizarre setting of
corkscrew curls, pale and thin from recent illness,
reappeared at court in cruel contrast to the splendid
beauty of la belle Stewart, whose star was then in
the ascendant, that *' Great Charles" may have re-
gretted the ** richness and quenching " properties of his
tears, and could possibly have forgiven his obedient
consort if she had chosen the alternative course and
hesitated to ''delay Heaven" on his account.

Yet those tears were genuine enough at the
moment, we may well believe. They were tears of
penitence and remorse, and that pity which the
young always feel for the young who are called
early out of a world that seems to them so fair ; a
sense, too, of scant justice that they should be given
so little time to live and laugh and love in. Some-
thing of all this was in Charles's heart, perhaps, as he
bent over what he believed to be the death-bed of
his neglected wife, and conjured her to " live for his
sake." Later, when his counsellors urged him to
divorce her because she had brought him no heir,
the remembrance of that hour possibly kept him
firm in the refusal which did him honour, and may
be set in the balance against many acts of his care-
less, unscrupulous life.

Those honest tears won a faithless Charles many
friends ; that one touch of nature set all the poets
a-rhyming. Waller's verses are scarcely less extra-
vagant than those of the " ingenious " Mrs. Philips ;

DOROTHY TEMPLE'S LETTERS 45

the themes are identical, and the sentiment only dif-
ferently set. Waller's, though perhaps less sincere,
is the more poetic of the two : —

" He that was never known to mourn
So many kingdoms from him torn,
His tears reserv'd for you ; more dear.
More priz'd than all his kingdoms were !
For when no healing aid prevail'd,
When cordials and elixirs fail'd,
On your pale cheek he drop't the show'r
Reviv'd you like a dying flower."

But to return to Mrs. Philips' letter. The con-
valescent duchess was Anne Hyde, wife of the Duke
of York, to whom the writer had already addressed
a poem.

The victory at court was that of Frances Stewart,
the new maid-of-honour, over Lady Castlemaine.
The king's charming cousin was as popular at White-
hall as the Castlemaines were the contrary, and her
advent at this critical moment to draw off the king's
already faltering allegiance was welcomed by every-
body. Even though it should prove (as it did) only
**the changing of one pack of cards for another," it
created a diversion in the old, old game, and the
lookers-on saw the fickle king, for once caught in
his own net, giving gold for silver, and learning
with pained surprise that there was one woman at
least in the world to whom he was not irresistible,
for he failed to awaken in his lovely kinswoman the
grande passion her wit and beauty had kindled in
him.

It is probable that the dethroned favourite's change
of religion was effected for immediate contingencies

46 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

more than with any far-seeing hope of ultimately obtain-
ing pardon for her many iniquities at a higher court.
The king's secret leaning towards his brother's re-
ligion was probably known to her ; and now that all
other cords that held him to her were strained almost
to snapping-point, she strove to hold him with the
strong one of religion, or at least the outward signs
of it.

Poets are proverbially thin-skinned, and Waller
was sometimes peevish. *'Orinda" was at this time
the rage ; her collected poems had been published, as
she says, without her knowledge, and Waller, who had
but lately returned from France, whither he had fled
some few years previously under a cloud, perhaps
feared in her a rival in his art, and spoke ungene-
rously of her, as, to his eternal shame, he had appa-
rently done once before under different circumstances
of Lady Sunderland, the heroine of some of his
sweetest poems and love-songs.

The occasion of his unheroic conduct was possibly
when he was condemned to death in 1643 for plotting
against the parliament, and only saved his life by
implicating *' several exalted persons and some ladies
in the plot!' Lady Sunderland and her husband
were true Royalists, and consequently bore no good-
will to the " Usurper's" parliament, and it is certainly
possible, and even probable, that she may have been
among them.

Mrs. Philips' use of the poetical name that Waller
had given Lady Sunderland is interesting as showing
that she was " Sacharissa" then as now to her friends
and admirers.

PART III

1665-1668. Charles II
DIPLOMACY

" I know my duty so well as to value all persons, as well as all coins,
according to the rate which his Majesty is pleased to put upon them."

— Temple to Arlington.

The awful summer of 1665 found the two ladies

(Lady Temple and Lady Giffard) with the little

*' Creeper" unprotected at Sheen. Temple, who had

been for the past two years attending the court and

enjoying himself in a society in which he was received

with the welcome his introduction from the Duke of

Ormond entitled him to, after refusing an embassy

to Sweden, found himself not very willingly sent

abroad on a secret mission, "■ so secret that they had

to let him go without knowing to what part of the

world he was bound."

The opportunity he had been waiting for had

come. A faithful discharge of his mission was to

be taken as an entrance into his Majesty's service.

It was a thing not to be refused, though the first

threatening of a coming epidemic was in the air,

and Dorothy Temple was far from well. **The hard

condition," wrote Lady Giffard, *' was that he had to

keep it a secret from his family, which he had never

done before." So, for the first time in the annals of

47

48 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

this united trio, no little council of three sat '* in my
lady's chamber," to discuss the affairs of State.

Courtenay, Temple's historian, tells the story of
how it all came about.

Not long after Charles had very imprudently de-
clared war against the Dutch, Chancellor Clarendon
was surprised by the request for a private audience
by a man who ** looked like a carter and spoke very
ill-English." He was, however, an English gentle-
man who had become a Benedictine monk, and had
been known to Clarendon when he was at Cologne
with the king, during his exile. He now brought
letters from a little potentate of the Low Countries —
the Bishop of Munster — offering, for the payment of
a certain sum of money, to enter the United Provinces
with an army of 20,000 men.

This Benedictine monk made the fortunes of
William Temple.

Clarendon thought the offer ** came from Heaven."
The monk was sent back to his master with encourage-
ment to send over a properly accredited envoy, and
there came a Baron Wredon, **a very proper man
and well bred," who persuaded the English ministers
that the Bishop could accomplish all he undertook,
and that France would do nothing to his prejudice,
though the Dutch were the friends of the king
(Louis XIV.).

So Lord Arlington, the Secretary of State, made
a treaty by which the Bishop, on the receipt of
500,000 rix-dollars, to be paid in three instalments,
was to bring up his forces against the Dutch.

It was necessary to keep this a secret, and a
person was immediately wanted to superintend the

> >
> . >

Lely pinxit

Sir William Temple

DIPLOMACY 49

payment, see that the bishop performed his part of
the treaty, and consult with him about the co-opera-
tion of the Elector of Brandenberg and the Duke of
Neuberg.

Lord Arlington suggested Temple, and accord-
ingly, one summer morning at 4 o'clock, the sleeping
household at Sheen was aroused by a messenger from
London who desired to see Mr. Temple without
delay.

On his arrival, in prompt obedience to this
summons, the minister put his zeal and friendship
to the test by asking him if he could be ready to
start in three or four days' time on an unnamed and
secret mission.

Temple, after a little consideration, said that since
he might not consult anybody else he would ask
his (Lord Arlington's) advice, as a friend, and would
follow it.

**Then," said Arlington, ''that will be to accept
the offer whether you like it or not."

He then explained the object of the mission,
paying him the compliment of telling him how per-
plexed he had been to think of anybody but himself
who was not only capable of the affair, and could be
trusted with the money, but who could keep the
secret.

Thus was Temple launched into diplomacy ; and
in the sweltering dog-days of that pestilential summer
he left his family and sailed on his secret mission.
He was scarcely gone before the plague burst forth
in all its horror. It soon spread to Sheen, and "a,
servant dying of it in a house joyning theirs and
one being taken ill in their own, they resolved to go

G

50 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

to London." London of all places, where the people
were dying in their thousands and ten thousands !
But thinking that it could hardly be nearer to them
than in their own house, they started away.

Lady Giffard is no embroiderer ; her facts are facts,
and she has no great love of detail. She gives us a
provokingly meagre account of the dreary journey
to London. We can only imagine the panic that
must have possessed them, the irresolution, the doubts
and fears which must have distracted them till they
had made up their minds to fly from contagion, as
they thought. One can picture the hasty packing,
the quickly harnessed horses, the agitated departure,
the hurried directions for the care of the sick servant,
and the tedious drive and the arrival in London, the
horror, the consternation that grew with every step.
*' But they found a dismal scene there, soe many
houses shut up with crosses upon the doors, as they
passed into the town, the people in them crying and
wringing their hands at the windows, the bells all day
tolling, the streets almost empty of everything but
funerals, that were perpetually passing by, the diffi-
culty of finding a lodging from the fright everybody
was in of receiving the infection with them, few going
thither on any other occasion but flying from it at
home, people coming in like Job's messengers all
day, with one sad story before another was ended.
Yt. after two dayes spent in this dismal place they
ventured to go home and trust with God Almighty's
blessing what the use of care and cordialls could do
to preserve them at home. Above all the great one
of resolving whatever happened never to leave one
another, and with this and God Almighty's blessing

DIPLOMACY 51

on the family, they recovered ye servant and con-
tinued all ye rest of them in perfect health, and though
I hope nothing so dreadful will ever again befall my
country it may not be thought wholly impertinent to
set downe the methods wch. under God I thought
they owed their preservation to wch. I think a greate
part was a cordiall of Sir Walter Raleigh's found
in most Recipe Books a soveraigne [remedy] . . .
against the Plague, which they made and gave a
spoonful or two of it round the house every morning,
burnt Burgamot Spirit, and made as many servants
as they could after ye smoke was gone take tobacco
for a great part of ye day, strew'd rue in ye windows
and held myrrh in their mouths when they came any
where that they apprehended infection."

There never was a woman less prone to self-glorifi-
cation than Lady Giffard. All through her MSS. she j
keeps her own personality in the background ; not with <■
affected or forced humility, or even with an undue
amount of that rare virtue, but simply because she is
so full of her desire to make others shine that she
sinks her own identity, and scarcely remembers her
share in any praiseworthy act. Perhaps if Dorothy
Temple had written this little story of the plague-scare
we should have heard more about Lady Giffard than
she told us herself; her **ego" is most provokingly
merged in the *' we " and ** they " of the narrative.

The return to Sheen after the fatiguing and useless
journey must have been depressing indeed. To re-
enter a house in which a plague-stricken servant was
fighting for life, and set about systematically to dose
and disinfect and use all available and known preventa-
tives against contagion, required good heads as well as

52 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

strong faith and brave hearts, and the younger woman,
who was left as it were on guard, must have been
racked with anxious fears and misgivings. But they
all escaped, and before the welcome autumn came a
little girl was born. She came as a gift to her father
at the reunion of the family at Brussels, and was all
her short life the darling of his heart.

Temple performed his mission to the satisfaction
of his patron, and paid over the first instalment of
money in the short space of three days.

Arlington's letter of acknowledgment was one to
be proud of : —

" In a word, the account you give of all committed
to your care is entirely approved of ; and I foresee, by
this your beginning, that your friends will have little
to answer for in your behalf at the end of the negotia-
tion if you continue as you have begun."

Pleasant words for a rising diplomatist to read on his
first flight, but the compliment was not accompanied
by anything more substantial, and he was obliged to
apply again and again without success. To add to his
difficulty, a ship-load of tin, which was to effect a pay-
ment to the bishop, was sunk at sea, and Von Ghalen
began to cool, and the Englishman's hope of soon
seeing him ** thundering at the gates of Amsterdam "
receded into the middle distance.

In the meantime Temple had passed a couple of
months in Brussels, a place he was ever after attached
to. He had not much faith in the bona fide loss of
the tin, and in a letter to Lord Arlington said as much
as would have landed him in an action for libel in
these days. *' I could not forbear saying, that whoever
his Majesty was pleased to charge of this embarkment,

DIPLOMACY 53

were doubtless very honest gentlemen, but if I should
serve the King in my station as they have done in
theirs, I think I should deserve to be hanged ; but all
this is a good lucky hit for the good alderman and me,
who, if we had been to cry about our tin here, till we
had sold all the quantity entrusted to us, we had
certainly been taken for a couple of tinkers ! "

His stay in Brussels suggested to his mind not
only the patriotic notion that useful services could be
rendered to England by a permanent resident in this
neutral town, which acted as a sort of city of refuge
for France and Holland (now ready to break into
hostilities), but the more personal one of a golden
opportunity for himself. His intimate knowledge of
both the Spanish and French languages, and a certain
English doggedness combined with a good deal of
savoir-faire and court polish, eminently fitted him for
the post he himself created. With his usual habit of
going straight to the point, he wrote the following
suggestion in a letter to his chief: —

** I am thinking upon Sir George Downing's de-
parture from hence whether it would not be necessary
for his Majesty to have a constant resident at that
court, having none left in all these countries, and
that it would be easy for such a person here to knit
and maintain with small intelligences, not only in
Holland, but in the armies and courts of the neighbour
princes of Germany ; besides a necessity which is like
to grow every day, of correspondence with this court
itself. If I did not know it becomes me to think his
Majesty may find out much fitter persons for this em-
ployment, I would make a humble offer of my service
in it and undertake to give a good account of it,

54 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

perhaps with little more charge than will be in keeping
me hereabout only to attend that single trust which is
now left in me, which after the arrival of that despatch
I have so long looked for (but yet hear nothing of)
will grow to be very small, and I should be ready for
that service or any other journey his Majesty's affairs
might engage me in."

Arlington took Temple at his word in both his
propositions. He soon obtained the king's command
to establish his friend in the residency at Brussels,
and some months later he engaged him again at a
moment's notice, in a journey of importance so vital
that he had to travel at the rate of a king's messenger
and not that of a dignified plenipotentiary.

All this time the Bishop of Munster was in a
quandary ; though he was thirsting to begin his cam-
paign against the Dutch, without this substantial
financial support he was unable to carry out his
plans. The loss of the cargo of tin had been disastrous
to him ; he could not get the rest of the promised
money from England wherewith to raise and maintain
the avenging army, and he was ominously threatened
by France. He professed the greatest regard for
Temple, and repeatedly declared that ** nothing should
force him from his league with his country," and,
indeed, in spite of pecuniary delays he kept his faith
until France declared war against England, which she
did in March 1666, and then he entered into peace
negotiations with Holland.

His intention of thus acting independently of
England had leaked out, and Temple's hasty journey
was if possible to prevent his carrying it out. He
was, however, not in time to do so, and having formed

DIPLOMACY 55

a very high and pleasant estimate of the bishops
character, was amazed (as he really had no reason to
be under the circumstances !) and bitterly disappointed
(as was but natural). He wrote in despair to Arling-
ton, who sent over some belated monies with instruc-
tions to him to meet the bishops and ministers of
Brandenberg, and other towns, in conference at Dort-
mund, with a view to establishing peace within the
circle of Westphalia, and between the Dutch and the
bishop, as if the idea had come from England. He
was furnished with full powers, and ordered to " get
to horse" and go straight to the bishop's court, and
ask him to "instruct him what to do!" This was
of course a bold trick of diplomacy, and Arlington
knew Temple could manage it if any one could. His
mode of negotiating had already become characteristic ;
he was bidden to **play out this farce" as skilfully
as he could, and it was suggested that perhaps '' some
of his troublesome insisting upon the punctilios " might
be more useful than the ** candour and ingenuity (in-
genuousness) in which he so much abounded."

No sooner had Temple started than counter-
orders and changes of meeting-places pursued him,
and the latest intelligence was that the conference was
to be at Cleves. He, however, was then well on his
way to Dortmund disguised as a Spanish envoy. He
went by Dusseldorf through a savage country, over
cruel hills, through thick woods and rapid streams ;
he arrived at Dortmund to find the gates shut, and
all his eloquence could not get them opened. ** He
slept on some straw with his page for a pillow."
This does not sound very restful — especially for the
page He eventually reached a castle belonging to

56 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

the bishop, where he was received with honour, and
instructed ** in the most episcopal way of drinking
possible " out of a vessel shaped like a bell, of silver-
gilt, holding *' two quarts or more " (of what he does
not tell — possibly a not too potent beverage !). The
general who entertained him took out the clapper,
filled the bell, and drank off the contents to the king's
health, replaced the clapper and turned down the bell
to show it was empty. This ceremony was repeated by
all the company ; Temple alone, unaccustomed to such
copious draughts, ** drank by proxy."

The next afternoon he arrived within a league
of Munster, and was met by the bishop at the head
of " a brave army of four thousand men ; a guard of
a hundred Hey dukes ran at full speed in front of his
coach, which travelled very fast." When the coach
came within forty yards of him it stopped, and the
bishop and the Prince of Hauberg got out. Temple
also alighted, and advanced half-way to meet them.
The bishop received him with exaggerated courtesy,
insisting on his sitting alone in the seat of honour
in the coach, saying, *'he knew what was due to
that style from a great King," while he and the prince
occupied the opposite seat.

** I was never nice in taking any honour offered in
the King's name and so easily took this," says Temple,
recounting his adventures in a letter to Arlington,
"but from it and a reception so extraordinary, began
to make an ill presage of my business and to think of
the Spanish proverb, ' Quien te hace mas corte que
no suelen hacer ote ha d'engammer, ote ha menester '
(* Whoever pays you more court than he is wont to pay,
either means to deceive you or has aeecj of you ')."

DIPLOMACY 57

The bishop's conduct soon proved that Temple's
suspicions were well founded. He conducted his
intended dupe with all honour to Munster, and would
have left him to repose without touching upon the
business that brought him there ; but Temple was
a match for him, and made him sit down and enter
into the affair without ceremony. He admitted that
necessity compelled him to order a conference at
Cleves, but he offered to stop the proceedings and
send a messenger to England for directions. Temple
treated all these fables with indifference, and had no
sooner bowed out the priestly warrior than the dis-
quieting news arrived privately that the treaty of
peace was already signed without any reference to
England.

Temple, however, had no choice but to attend the
mighty feast prepared in his honour, which lasted
for hours, and at which he '* drank fair with the
rest " — not two quarts at a time, it is to be hoped !
Next day the bishop confessed that the treaty had
gone further than he intended, and endeavoured to
propitiate the indignant minister with personal favours.
Temple, however, refused all " until I should know
whether the King of England would consider the
Bishop a friend or enemy," and seeing through his
Grace's little play of detaining him until another
instalment of the subsidy should arrive, he pretended
to acquiesce in the arrangement for another con-
ference next day ; but in order to defeat the scheme
for obtaining the money, ''though suffering a little
from his departure from his usual temperance," he
started on horseback at daybreak instead of going
to rest, and rode hard to a frontier village eight miles

58 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

off. There he hired a room and pretended to go
to bed, but took fresh horses at the back door of
the inn " while the rest of the company thought him
a-bed," and rode through the wildest unfrequented
ways till eight at night. He was now quite spent
and ready to fall from his horse. He lay on the
ground while his escort tried to get him a lodging
in some peasant's cottage, but without success, and
after refreshing himself with a little juniper water
(a kind of gin), the only thing they could get, he
rode on another three leagues, and arriving at mid-
night somewhere in the Neuberg district, he lay once
more on a bed of straw till break of day ; then off
again, reaching Dusseldorf at noon, where he went to
bed for an hour.

He was now past trusting himself on horseback,
and the Duke of Neuberg sent him in his coach to
Brussels, where the last straw was awaiting his already
overburdened back ! He had the mortification of hear-
ing that his ''wise secretary," as he sarcastically dubs
his subordinate, had allowed the Munster agent to
take out the bills of exchange for the bishop, and
there was a train of endless difficulties laid for him to
avoid the payment. ** And if I succeed not in this
part of the affair," wrote the poor man to his patron,
** I lose the fruits of the hardest journey, upon my
return, which I believe any man has made these seven
years as I have lost them already, of more care and
thought and bent of soul than I am sure anything
in this world is worth, unless " (he amends with more
tact than truth) " it be the service of such a master as
his Majesty."

The court at home, though surprised at the

DIPLOMACY 59

bishop's breach of engagement, was not moved to the
indignation Temple himself could not but feel, and
attached now very little importance to it, and Arling-
ton assured Temple that **his Majesty was entirely
satisfied '' with his proceedings, and that whatever
mortification his disappointment may have given him
he was not to believe that any of it was imputed to
him or to his want of good conduct and zealous
affection to his Majesty's service.

It is only fair to record that the bishop originally
meant well and was not altogether a fraud, for after
the breach of the alliance, hearing that the French
Government was trying to purchase the services of
the Munster troops, Temple successfully urged on
him the ingratitude of thus transferring to England's
enemy troops raised with English money, and sug-
gested that Spain should be allowed to enlist them.

So ended Temple's first piece of diplomacy, a
failure that was almost a success, for it showed of
what stuff he was made, and he now found himself
established as the representative of England at the
vice-regal court of Brussels. *' His functions," says
Mr. Courtenay, *' were chiefly those of observation
and report."

It was while Temple was on his wild cross-country
ride to Munster that his wife and sister, little Jack,
and baby Nan arrived at Ostend, disappointed we
may be sure at his not being there to meet them, but
enjoying the anticipation of more successes as much
as he did. It was not long before he returned, how-
ever, to be loved for the ** perils he had passed," and
commiserated for his hardships, and they all spent
"a very happy year" together in this charming town

6o LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

with its delightful diplomatic circle of Spaniards,
French, Austrians and English.

Lady Giffard and Lady Temple must have been
in their element. They made many friends — the
D'Isolas, D'Estrades, Del Roderigo, and De Marsins.
These last were Lady Giffard's special friends ; forty
years later she corresponded constantly with Madame
de Marsin. There is quite a thick packet of that
lady's letters, but containing so little of interest, and
written in such a commonplace, conventional style
that they would interest no one if printed here ; and
there are two from monsieur her husband, telling of
her illness and her death in Paris some years later.

Castel del Roderigo was the Spanish minister,
D'Estrade the French, and D'Isola the Austrian.

To Brussels also came the poor little fourteen-
year-old widow of Lord Ogle, afterwards Duchess of
Somerset, with her grandmother the Countess of
Northumberland, and there was formed that friendship
with the Temples which ended only with her's and
Lady Giffard's lives.

This happy year came all too soon to an end.
Another baby boy was born to Dorothy, but it pro-
bably went the way of the five babes in Ireland, for
there is no other mention of it in any memoirs and
letters I have seen.

To attempt even the most elementary explanation
of the embroMillement of Europe at this time, is quite
outside the limits of this volume ; but Mr. Courtenay,
whose conscientious and comprehensive life of Sir
William Temple has been altogether too long dis-
regarded, has said in a few words all that need be
said on the subject here. '* The position of Spain

.■"•.!'

Sir Peter Lely pinxit

Lady Temple

DIPLOMACY 6 1

and England in reference to Holland (with whom we
were at war) and France, tended naturally to an
alliance between the former states. France, though
not yet a principal party in the war, was allied with
the Dutch, and had protected them against our ally,
the Bishop of Munster."

Spain was neutral in the existing war between
England and the Dutch, and the duty of the resident
was to watch over this neutrality and cultivate a good
understanding with the Spanish Government, with a
view particularly to the negotiations then in progress
under the auspices of Sir Richard Fanshawe, the British
minister, whom Sir William Godolphin was on the
point of relieving, and Lord Sandwich, who was sent on
an extraordinary mission to negotiate a treaty ; it was
part of Temple's duty to facilitate the conclusion of it.

The next move in the game was the overtures for
peace made by the Dutch to England, with the
proviso that Charles should not put forward his
nephew, the young Prince of Orange.

Temple, who was not at first taken into full con-
fidence in this matter, was sceptical about the wisdom
of accepting it. " I confess," he said, writing many
years later, ** I think nothing can make a war good,
or a peace ill, but its growing too necessary, and did
not more dread the first when we began it than I now
do the last unless it be in some way victorious."

This sentiment probably emanated from the curi-
ous difference of opinion between the Dutch and
English residents in Brussels as to which gained the
victory after the great four-day fight between Albe-
marle and De Ruyter, on which occasion Temple was
instructed to say *' that he thought the Dutch exceeded

62 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

us in the trophies which they bore away, but the loss
which we inflicted on them by destruction and confla-
gration was greater than that which we suffered at
their hands."

Apparently the honours were so even that Brussels,
being a neutral place, allowed the victory to be decided
by the vox populi. The Dutchman announced his in-
tention of celebrating the victory by a display of fire-
works. Temple was *' beforehand with him," but
" rejoiced with moderation," declaring that he would
'Meave something to be done upon an entire victory."
He ventured, however, upon the greater popularity of
the English cause to drink '* to the health of the
conquerors." This diplomatic toast met with rounds
of applause, both in house and street.

The Dutch, however, after some delay made a huge
and lofty bonfire ; but the townspeople " wondered
that these fellows should make bonfires when they
were beaten," and one of them kicked over a tar
barrel. This was resented by a swordsman in the
resident's house, and a general fray took place, which
ended in little more serious than the quenching of the
fire and shouts of ''Vive le roi d'Angleterre ! Vive
I'Espagne et I'Angleterre ! "

As Temple's historian truly says, **he had no part
either in dividing or directing the fleet," and the
question of victory needs not to be settled here ; but
a conversation between the Comte de Guiche (so well
known to English readers through Alexandre Dumas'
novels) and the English diplomatist plainly shows how
nearly the victory was being decided — not for us, but
against us — had it not been for a timely fog which
came to our rescue.

DIPLOMACY 63

" He gave us," writes Temple from Brussels, to
Lord Arlington on August 31st, 1666, **a very fair
account of the first engagement, and did our nation
so much right as to say he observed ' moins de re-
lachement ' among us in the worst of our game than
among the Dutch in the best of theirs. He admired
our discipline and the general's (Monck, Duke of
Albemarle) carriage in the course of this battle, as
well as the constancy of our men, but added withal
that we had the worst of the fight, and if the mist had
not fallen, the Dutch had given us chase ; upon which I
asked him what the Dutch did the night after the fight.

"He answered directly that they sailed home as
fast as they could.

" I asked whether they carried their lanterns. He
confessed their admiral did not ; and what the rest did
he could not tell. I asked if ours did so. He said
he knew not, for he went to sleep as soon as the fight
was ended ; but," added Temple (who certainly knew
less about it than the count, who had behaved with
much gallantry during the fight), " I assured him they
^ad, and said no more ! "

One thing was certain — it was the Dutch fleet
that hurried away in the fog, and the English that
remained, and (if we may credit Temple's statement)
with their lanterns burning.

But it was neither this dubious victory nor a more
decided one which followed it in August, that decided
the success of the campaign, which was unquestionably
ours, and which, to quote the words of D'Estrade,
made us rulers of the sea —

" La victoire des Anglais paroit en ce qu ils sont
maitres de la men"

64 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

In his present position Temple had great oppor-
tunities, and he fully justified Arlington's predictions,
(though he had the faults of an imaginative and
sensitive nature added to a somewhat captious tem-
per. But his intelligence being, as it was, of a very-
high order, and with a touch of philosophy that he
had perhaps learnt from his wife, he soon made
himself heard in the counsels of nations ; in fact,
as the French say, he had "arrived." His new post
was no sinecure. Charles began to wish for a peace
with Holland. Holland was equally anxious for it,
but the difficulty was how to set about it. Temple
saw that Spain and Portugal, who were still at war,
must be forced to make up their quarrel if Spain was
to be free to help us in the Low Countries ; yet, as he
quaintly put it, *' Peace, like all other fruit, will never
keep if it be gathered too soon, and when 'tis ripe
'twill fall off of itself." Yet something had to be
done, and Temple could not divest himself of the
idea that De Witt, the Grand Pensionary of Holland,
was the inveterate and unchanged enemy of England.
But time showed that he was wrong. Whatever his
object may have been at the moment, De Witt was
more than half inclined to make friends, and with the
idea of fostering this spirit Arlington decided to make
use of Temple's literary talents.

** I have promised his Majesty," he wrote, *' to
charge you with the writing of a small paper, and
publishing it in French, that may pleasantly and
pertinently awaken the good Patriots in Holland, not
only to thoughts and wishes of Peace, but to a
reasonable application for it, assuring them that his
Majesty continues to wish it, and would gladly receive

DIPLOMACY 65

any overtures for it from the States, here in his own
Kingdom, not expecting less from them in this kind
than they did to the Usurper Cromwell."

This was to be written in the form of a " pretended
letter " from some merchant to another in Amsterdam,
or any other form he liked best. Arlington thought
it would operate well in Holland, and be worthy of
Temple's pen, *' which I know has sufficiency for a
much greater."

The pamphlet was speedily written and published,
and soon '*ran in some vogue" at Antwerp, and peace
appeared upon the horizon ; but Temple now began
to grow quite bloodthirsty, and to change his opinion
about *'good peace and ill war." He conceived a
pretty plan of embarking France and Spain in a
quarrel " beyond retreat," while England was to
mystify France by concealing her intentions and
leaving it quite uncertain whether she was going to
assist Spain, or leave her to her own devices ; then,
having involved several other countries and states in
the general muddle, and effectually misled the field,
she was to come in triumphant at the death and
share the spoils with victorious Spain !

The Dutch, however, objected to sending am-
bassadors of peace to Charles as they had done to
Cromwell in 1654; and England, to Temple's alarm
and dismay, suddenly offered to despatch delegates
to the Hague herself.

This was a complete volte-face, and the only good
point about it was that it equally alarmed the French
king.

Temple's national dignity was disturbed. He
thought this move was derogatory to England, and

I

66 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

would appear to the world that she was unduly
anxious for peace. A compromise was therefore
arranged for, and the proceedings were settled to
take place at Breda.

Thoroughly bewildered by such a sudden change
of tactics, Temple begged leave to go to Breda, and
promised himself to elucidate the mystery if he could.
The permission was granted, but he was commanded
to take no part in the proceedings except as the
ambassadors (Lords Coventry and Hollis) should
direct. The negotiations nearly failed at the last
through the long-standing dispute about the Island
of Poleron, which caused the French to jeer at the
English for risking "the loss of the dinner for the
sake of the mustard."

But on July 1667 peace was finally concluded
between England and France and Holland and Den-
mark respectively, and France was free to turn her
full attention to the Spanish Netherlands.

Town after town went down before the invincible
Turenne, and Brussels itself was threatened. Temple
did not think, with two armies almost at the gates,
that his wife and young children were safe there, and
sent them home to England, having some time pre-
viously had the forethought to procure a passport from
the English ambassador in Paris, Lord St. Albans,
and permission for her and her children, servants, and
baggage to cross by Calais.

The decision must have been a welcome one to
Lady Temple, for she was no lover of the sea, having
had too much experience in her youth of rough
passages to the Channel Isles, and having sailed too
often among those dangerous rocks that guard the

DIPLOMACY 67

fortresses and port of St. Malo not to know and
appreciate the dangers and discomforts of the deep.
** I pity your sister in earnest," she wrote to Temple in
the days of their courtship when he was escorting Lady
Giffard, then a girl of fifteen, over to Ireland ; **a sea
voyage is welcome to no lady, but you are beaten to
it, and 'twill become you now you are a conductor to
show your valour and keep your company in heart."

This was in March 1654, at the end of which
year William and Dorothy were married. Another
message reached William's sister a few days later
from her future sister-in-law : "In earnest I have
pitied your sister extremely, and easily apprehend
how troublesome this voyage must needs be to her by
knowing what others have been to me. Yet pray
assure her I would not scruple at undertaking it my-
self to gain such an acquaintance, and would go much
further than where (I hope) she now is to serve her.
I am afraid she will not think me a fit person to choose
for a friend that cannot agree with my own Brother,
but I trust you to tell my story for me and will
hope for a better character from you than he gives
me." Cannot one realise how proud and pleased the
little girl was to receive these charming messages
from an older one, and how Dorothy's pretty ways
of turning things and unfailing tact laid the foundation
of that sisterly affection which held them together all
through the rest of their lives !

A few tempestuous voyages between Harwich and
the Hague had probably not converted her to sea-
faring ways, and the sympathy she accorded to the
traveller fourteen years before was forthcoming again,
we may be certain, with compound interest.

68 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

Temple was very anxious to accompany his wife
to England, but his government would not hear of it,
and on his request for orders as to what he was to
do in case of a siege, was told to stick close to the
Marquis del Roderigo.

It seems odd that a town that was dangerous for
Lady Temple should be safe for Lady Giffard. But
perhaps it was anxiety for the children that hurried
her away, and Lady Giffard having no such ties, was
the best one to remain, for the ladies would have been
very unhappy to have both deserted Temple.

Still puzzled to understand Charles's new tactics
with France, Temple began to study seriously the
policy of the Dutch governor or Grand Pensioner,
John de Witt, and in order to make his acquaintance
(with the excuse that Lady Giffard had a great desire
to see Holland), the brother and sister started on a
tour in that country. They travelled incognito, with
only Lady Giffard's woman, a valet, and a page out
of livery, and visited Amsterdam and the Hague. It
was all new to Lady Giffard, and she enjoyed it all
** mightily, being specially pleased with the India
houses."

Temple himself was disappointed at finding the
country so little altered from what it was when he
was there some years before. He found ''nothing
new " at Amsterdam but the Stadthaus, '* which put
him in mind of what Cavaliero Bernini said of the
Louvre when he was sent to take a view of it, that
it was * una granpiccola cosa ' " ; and what pleased him
most on his tour was the freedom with which all men
spoke of public affairs, in their own state and their
neighbours', in boats, and inns, and other public places,

DIPLOMACY 69

which enabled him (being incognito) to learn a great
deal about the feeling of the people he otherwise
would have had no chance of knowing. It is possible
that when he went back the next year as ambassador,
there were some who recognised with dismay the affable
gentleman to whom they had talked so garrulously !

Like all other travellers, Sir William and his
sister were very much impressed with the super-
cleanliness of the Dutch, a habit which Sir William
accounts for, almost apologetically, by supposing that
it is the ** perpetual dampness of their houses from
the water all around them " that necessitates what
evidently appeared to him the superfluous cleansing
of their apartments and everything they use or touch,
which, *'but for the constant rubbing and scouring,
would breed sundry fevers and disorders which their
efforts are able to avert."

On arriving at the Hague, Temple, still preserving
his incognito, called on De Witt with his sister, and
during the interview they divulged their identity, and
were received with all honour by the hospitable Dutch-
man, who. Sir William must have been relieved to
learn, had just despatched two ambassadors to London.
They spoke with frankness of the late war, and, as
far as the two men were concerned, for ever buried
the hatchet. They discovered a mutual antipathy to
Sir George Downing, the late resident, who, accord-
ing to the Grand Pensionary, ** exasperated into a
national quarrel what might have been settled as
between private persons." This was a ready-made
bond of sympathy between them, and an acquaintance
begun so auspiciously could not fail to last. The
intimacy only ended with De Witt's death.

70 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

October saw them back in Brussels, and Temple
became very home-sick, and did everything he could,
short of asking for leave, to get to England. At this
time he was keeping up a warm correspondence with
Lord Lisle, the eldest of Lord Leicester's sons, and
his own boy-friend. He begged him to sound the
depths of the waters round the court at Whitehall,
which were always at ebb and flow. Lord Lisle's
answer was dispiriting. He surmised that Temple
might not find success among the courtiers there,
and advised him to '* keep his Residency as long as
he could."

Lady Giffard's movements were controlled by her
brother's, and she too remained on at Brussels.

** The best on't is," Sir William wrote in his
answer to Lord Lisle's candid advice, **that my
heart is so set on my little corner of Sheene that
while I keep that, no other disappointment will be
very sensible to me ; and because my wife tells me
she is so bold as to enter into talk of enlarging our
dominions there, I am trying how a succession of
cherries may be compassed from May till Michaelmas,
and how the richness of the Sheene vines may be
improved by half-a-dozen different sorts which are
not yet known there, and which I think much beyond
many that are.

" I should be glad to come and plant them myself
this next season, but I know not yet how these thoughts
will fit."

Late in the autumn he received the king's com-
mand to return to England privately. Lady Giffard
accompanied him.

Great changes had passed over London since

DIPLOMACY 71

Temple had left England just a year and a half
ago. The plague had swept through the city, and
the great fire was beginning to be talked of as a
story, like the burning of Troy. Sir Christopher
Wren was busy with compasses and rule, drawing
plans and building up churches and houses. The
old picturesque if insanitary order of dwellings
was passing away, and a strong, massive, unlovely
masonry rearing its walls slowly and steadily in its
stead. Temple himself, too, was changed. He had
gone away a young, untried gallant ; he had come
back a successful, honoured diplomat ; but there was
one thing that was not changed — the love between
his Dorothy and himself.

We must imagine the happy meeting, earlier than
his family could have hoped, with his wife and Jack
and *' Nan," and all the tales he had to hear and tell, for
Lady Giffard has not chronicled the meeting. Soon
he was back in London, where many of the mysteries
that preceded the Peace of Breda were revealed, and
he learned how the Chancellor's (Clarendon) fall had
come about ; how the ridicule of Buckingham and
Shaftesbury had helped it almost as much as his
political differences with the king. He heard of all
the various causes that led to the capitulation of
Arlington and the sudden and unaccountable weak-
ness of the English. He learned how vital had been
the necessity for the Peace of Breda, and how fatal
it would have been to have "spoilt that dinner for the
sake of the mustard ! "

He was scarcely allowed time to look around him
before he was sent on another mission — this time to
the Hague, where he was to make that important

72 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

treaty known to history as the "Triple Alliance"
between England, Holland, and Sweden, a defensive
league and a treaty of mediation between France and
Spain. The following January saw him preparing
to start. In spite of the dangers and hardships of
the crossing in the winter (possibly because of them),
his wife and sister were unwilling to let him go alone,
and Lady Giffard resolved to accompany him.

With his accustomed appreciation of any service
rendered him, an endearing trait in his character
which was perhaps one of the secrets of his success,
Sir William writes to his father : —

*'The season of the year is bad and the weather
ill, and yet my sister is soe kinde as to come hither
(London) with me from Brussels, and to return with
me at this short warning to the Hague, which will be
a great ease to me as well as satisfaction, and by
relieving me from all domestic care, will leave me the
more liberty to do my business, which I foresee will
be enough to take up a better head than mine.

** My wife and children stay here till I see whither
my wandering planet is like to fix, but my brother
Harry resolves to be of the party and take this occa-
sion of seeing Holland and what is likely to pass in
the world at this juncture."

It was ** brother Harry " who brought the Triple
Alliance document to England some months later.

On this occasion they travelled in the royal yacht —
in some luxury, perhaps, but not in comfort, for they
were exposed to a most awful and alarming storm.
So violent was the wind and so high the seas that
for thirty hours seamen and passengers alike gave
themselves up for lost, as indeed they probably must

DIPLOMACY 73

have been had they not had the good fortune to fall
in with a pilot from the Dutch coast, on to which they
were driven. Lady Giffard relates this episode in her
MS., and Temple mentioned it in his dispatch to the
king. With what a fever of anxiety must Lady
Temple have watched for the '* Duch letters " to
arrive !

The making of the treaty is a matter of history.
Every schoolboy can give one the date — January 23rd,
1668 — but only the students of the Temple dispatches
know the difficulties and discussions and the alter-
ations in the draft that were necessary, and the energy
and determination of the Englishman to rouse the
phlegmatic Dutchman and Swede into prompt action.
*' I foresaw," he said, "that many things might arise
in ten days' time to break all our good intentions," so
he hurried matters forward and carried all before him.
On Friday he received the last instructions from the
king and made his last conditions. At eleven o'clock
on Monday morning the treaty was formally executed
between the three ministers — Temple, Dhona, and
De Witt.

*' After sealing," wrote Sir William, " we all em-
braced with much kindness, and applause on my
saying on that occasion, *a Breda comme amis, ici
comme freres,' and De Witt made me an obliging com-
pliment of having the honour that never any other
Minister had before me, of drawing the States to a
conclusion in five days ! "

The news of the accomplishment of the Triple
Alliance was received in London with great demon-
strations of joy, and it was equally popular at the
Hague. Sir William Temple was the hero of the

74 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

hour. Congratulations and expressions of admiration
were showered on him from all sides, and it was pro-
bably owing to his own sensitive pride and absence
of any vulgar **push" that he received from his royal
master no adequate honours nor remuneration. He.
himself wrote of this treaty as a ** nine days wonder,"
but it still ranks in history as one of the greatest of
diplomatic achievements, and should have won at
least a peerage for its maker.

The treaty-makers, having done their work to
their satisfaction, proceeded to play, and M . de Witt
gave a party to meet the Prince of Orange. '' We are
all to play the young men, and be as merry as cards,
eating, and dancing can make us, for I do not think
drinking will have any great share," wrote this veteran
of thirty-eight, at the end of an important dispatch to
Arlington.

** History," Mr. Courtenay says, "has conde-
scended to notice this entertainment, but it is silent
as to the part Temple bore in it. We know not
whether his neglected abilities were revived at the
card-table or at supper, but in the dance he was out-
done. The Grand Pensionary himself, five years older
than Temple and Dutchman as he was, is recorded as
"dancing the best in the room." We are not told
whether the masterly performance was a cavalier seitl,
or if Temple, Dhona and De Witt celebrated their
Triple Alliance in a pas de trois, for these festive
gatherings at the Hague were seldom enlivened by
the presence of ladies.

For the honour of England it is hoped that Sir
William beat him in a tennis match he was engaged
to play with him next morning.

DIPLOMACY 75

While her brother was being feted and made much
of, Lady Giffard can certainly not have been left out
in the cold ; and in the absence of any account of her
doings, we may safely conjecture that she came in for
a fair share of ** compliments and attentions." They
left the Hague in March, and returned to Brussels to
make arrangements for Temple's going as England's
representative to the Congress of Aix. Arlington
appointed him ambassador, and paid him the compli-
ment of sending no instructions.

*' I do not yet foresee," he wrote, ** the necessity of
adding an instruction, but follow the rule of Solomon,
' send a wise man upon an errand and say nothing to
him.' " This confidence was acceptable to Temple,
but the further expression of his Majesty's trust was
less so. »

*' We should send you money to gild this char-
acter, but I hope your own credit will suffice you for
the present, as your own talent will supply you with
instructions."

Poor Temple had more talent than wealth, and he
could have spared his "credit" for a little gold. It is
quite pathetic to see how aghast he was at the empty
splendour of his exalted position.

** I have received your Lordship's of the i6th and
19th (Mar.)," he wrote; "the first accompanied with
the powers under the great seal, and the other under
the signet, which will serve to fill my head and empty
my purse ; what other effects they will have upon the
business and me I cannot tell. I am not yet very fond,
that I can find, of entering upon my new honours."

He was quite alarmed at the prospect of being the
only ambassador, feeling sure he would commit some

76 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

solecism, and he pleaded hard that unless the French
and Dutch representatives were to hold that rank, he
might doff that terrifying dignity for the lesser one of
envoy-extraordinary.

'' In this," he assured Arlington, " I am pretty con-
fident to acquit myself well enough both in these and
other circumstances, whereas the other is a thing I
know nothing of and enough to make a poor man's
head turn round, that was always brought up in the
shade and silence until your Lordship brought me out
on the stage."

Arlington met his wishes by sending him the lesser
powers he asked for, and thus spared him further
terrible anxieties as to what he should ''give the
envoys," and whether he ''should return visits to the
Pope's nuncio," and other points of etiquette ; and,
accompanied by Lord Strafford, he started on the
24th of April for Aix.

Though he left Brussels by a private way, he found
the road as he neared the town of Hessel crowded
with people, who entertained him in the highway with
a speech and a banquet, "and all the great guns of
the town at once." Other towns vied with Hessel,
and the volleys of shot fired in his honour would
have been salute enough for all the ambassadors in
Christendom.

Difficulties met him at the Congress which pos-
sibly made him wish himself in the high and mighty
position after all. M. Colbert, the French minister,
and Bevering, the Dutch, were quite anxious to
conclude the business, but Baron Berjeyck, Castel
Roderigo's envoy, made tiresome and trifling excuses
for delay — possibly taking a leaf out of Temple's own

DIPLOMACY 77

book, and practising on him "the troublesome in-
sistence on punctilio and precedence " Lord Arlington
had so commended in a previous business — while to
add to his troubles Sir William found himself stretched
on a bed of sickness, the premonition perhaps of the
suffering from gout and "spleen" that darkened his
later life.

What the Pope had to do with this treaty of
peacemaking on the part of England and Holland
between France and Spain is not clear, but he seems
to have acted as a sort of nominal mediator, and his
nuncio had to be considered. The process of getting
all the signatures was a great worry. Colbert, a
brother of the great minister of Louis XIV., signed
his name with such an arrogant scrawl that there
was no room for the Spanish envoy's signature.
The baron claimed the right to sign on the same
line, and the Frenchman maintained he had not the
equal right because he was not an ambassador.
Temple had much ado to keep the peace, and it re-
quired all his tact to calm this " storm in a teacup."

" I was weary of all their comings and goings
with messages over perplexing trifles," wrote the sick
English envoy, in a humorous account of the pro-
ceedings to Arlington, who, as always, gave him
due credit for his part. "Now I can give you the
' parabien ' of this great work which you may with-
out vanity call your own," he wrote, "and it is with
more satisfaction considering what escapes you made
between the Marquis's resolutions, the Baron de
Berjeyck's punctilios, and M. Colbert's 'emporte-
ment.' God be thanked the great business and you
are so well delivered from these accidents ! "

78 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

The Peace of Aix was published at Brussels on
the 30th of May 1668 (N.S.), and the safety of
Flemish towns secured. It was received with little
demonstration but much real satisfaction and thank-
fulness to England for bringing it about, ** for they
realised that with two armies at their gates it was
no longer the time to be brave."

Temple returned to Brussels as soon as he was
well enough to travel, thinking to spend some time
there, but troubled what to do with his ** Excellency^'
for, "considering how ill my time and how well my
money has passed with it hitherto," he grumbled, ** I
doubt nobody will be persuaded to take it off my
hands."

But this was what he was not allowed to do. He
was bidden to " keep himself in the same figure and
equipage, the better to wear the character of his
Majesty's Ambassador at the Hague." He was,
however, allowed to return to England before enter-
ing into his new duties.

During the Aix proceedings Lady Giffard re-
mained at Brussels, where she studied Spanish with
the assistance of an old archer of the King's Guards.
A dictated letter from him has been preserved in
Sir William Temple's handwriting, thanking his pupil
for the gift of a silver sword-hilt she has sent him.
It is accompanied by the following translation into
English by Lady Giffard herself — endorsed **Lady
Giffard's translation of Portella's letter " — and has
been printed in an edition of Temple's works pub-
lished in 1 8 14. The editor imagines the letter to
have been written by Sir William in jest. This I
think is erroneous ; soldiers in those days were seldom

DIPLOMACY 79

scholars, and the courtly old archer may have been
perfectly well able to instruct his pupil viva voce,
and yet not capable of penning an epistle worthy of
acceptance by his ''enchantress"; and what more
likely than that he should take advantage of Sir
William's knowledge of his tongue, to depute him to
write a note at his dictation and in his name. The
sonorous Spanish sentences have suffered in trans-
lation, but the sentiments are so un-English as to
dispose of the somewhat unaccountable suggestion
that it was anything but what it purported to be,
a letter of thanks written from dictation ; if it were
otherwise it would scarcely have been so carefully
translated and preserved.

From Antwerpe^ Mar. ye 30^/j, 1667.

Madame, — I have received with much transport and
sence of my obligations to y' Ladyship the Hilt of a
sword that you did me ye favour to send me, & which
was much endeared to me by the assurance y® Resident
y"^ Brother gave me, that you did not expect I should as
I am us'd to doe,, melt my selfe into thanks & tears with
sence of your kindness ; but that you would thinke your-
selfe very well pay'd with recieving a letter from me in
Spanish, being as easy to me to write ill as it is to your
Ladyship to do well. But can it be true that writing a
letter in Spanish should acquit me of soe great a debt,
that shall not be wanting though I went to fetch it in
Gallego : But pray Madame tell me if I am to beleeve
you a Saint or an enchantresse, for this I am very sure off
that you have done a Miracle & made a deeper wound
in my heart with a silver Hilt of a Sword, than the Bravest
Cavalier could have done with a Blade from Toledo ;
but you will tell me that we live in an age that is not new

8o LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

to the miracles done with silver & that greater things
are now brought to pass with that than with valor and
steel in past ages, your Ladyship is in ye right, & soe
shall not make Reliques of your Garments for this Miracle
but don't know whether they will escape when I have
told you that since I touch'd this enchanted Hilt I find
my gray hairs dropping off, the blood in my veins growing
warme, that from an old man of seventy I am a youth
of fiveteen, & love that has been so long banished re-
turning in triumph to serve upon this miserable heart
& break it in pieces the first moment. Wretch that
I am, condemn'd to travel our again those rough and
uneven paths of blind & ingovernable youth, how can
one life suffice to be twice a Martyr in ; is it possible that
I must once more feel ye heat of that scorching love, &
that out of theese cold ashes should kindle a violent flame,
that I am again to be blasted with sighs and drown'd
in tears and feel such torments & disquiets as onely
leave me alive that I may dye every day, oh lady of my
soul how have you indone me with doeing me good, and
how many real and cruel smilles must now curb me ye
jest of being in love with you when I was old. But a
little hope will relieve the greatest sufferings of love, &
flatter my selfe that so accomplished a person must be as
reasonable, and that haveing faveur'd me so much as you
have done when I was old, I may hope for your pitty
at heart now I am young, handsome, and in love, but if
my passion flatters and my hopes decieves me as they are
us'd to do, I have yet this consolation that having bin
made young in an instant by your faveurs when I was
old, your cruelty may as soon & as easily make me old
now I am young, & then I shall make as great a jest
of your charmes as you have done of my passion.

May your Ladyship live many years, be in love as
I am at seventy and then not forget

her most humble servant and lover

Gabriel Portella.

PART IV

1666-1669. Charles II

LETTERS FROM LADY SUNDERLAND (" SACHARISSA ")
AND WILLIAM GODOLPHIN

SIR WILLIAM GODOLPHIN'S LETTERS

" It is of the greatest importance to write letters well, as this is a
talent which unavoidably occurs every day of one's life as well in business
as in pleasure ; and inaccuracies in orthography or in style are never
pardoned but in ladies." — Lord Chesterfields Letters.

Next in chronological order come three letters from
William Godolphin (afterwards Sir William), one of
three Cornish brothers, gentlemen of good and ancient
family, and gay young sparks about the court at the
time the first letter was written. Sydney, as Groom
of the Chamber to King Charles, was writing verses
to the actress Moll Davis ; Henry was designed for the
Church, and became later, Canon of St. Paul's ; and
William, like Temple, was at that time unemployed.

The date of this letter Is not to be discovered, but
it was obviously written the day after his first meeting
with Lady Giffard and her brother, and the inference
therefore is that this was shortly after their first
appearance in London early in 1664. It is addressed

" To Mr, Temple or my Lady Giffard y^

and was, I imagine, intended more for the lady than
the gentleman, whose name was superscribed to save

S' L

82 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

the proprieties at such a short acquaintance ! Temple
had not then arrived at a position in Hfe when such
fulsome flattery could be addressed to him in any
anticipation of favours to come. Such over-blown
flowers of speech were, it is far more likely, intended
to ingratiate the writer with the lady, and she cannot
be accused of undue vanity if she laid the flattering
unction to her soul !

The Dean of Christchurch, too, one is tempted
to suspect, was only a convenient lay-figure, and
knew no more of his own overpowering desire to
make Mr. Temple's acquaintance than did that gentle-
man himself, being perhaps equally guiltless of any
grasping design of reaping undeservedly *'one of the
greatest rewards of the world." But whether or no,
that day began a sentimental friendship which seems
to warrant the suggestion that he was the *' G. O. "
of Lady Chesterfield's letters, and the gentleman to
whom report said Lady Giffard was "being to be
married."

LETTER I ^

For Mr, Temple or my Lady Giffard.

Whitehall, between ii & 12 Saturday.

The Dean of Christchurch is now with mee & hath
engaged mee at 3 of the clock this afternoon to show
him wher hee may doe his duty to you, with Submission
to y' greater designes ; But I could not bee so wanting
to his great virtue & worth as not to doe this endeavour
towards the giving him one of the best rewards of this
world, & to put it in y' power at least to make him as
happy as all those who have ye hon' of your acquaintance.

I sayd yesterday hee was the man of ye world into
whose Being I would have been glad to transfer my own

SIR WILLIAM GODOLPHIN'S LETTERS 83

(if it were possible in Natur). But that was before I had ye
advantage of him in knowing you, which I esteem so
material a part of my life as I should with much more
difficulty return to what I was before that time than go
into the meanest thing that enjoyed that privilege.

The letter is endorsed in Lady Giffard's writing :
" W"- Godolphin's letter."

After all this one cannot but hope that Lady
Giffard (if not her brother) was ready at ** three of
the clock" to smile on the virtuous dean, and com-
plete her evident conquest of Godolphin, and so
dissuade him from migrating rashly into any of the
lower animals.

In January 1666 came another letter from Godol-
phin. The intimacy had far advanced since the
introduction of the dean, and that it was not a
** single swallow," but one of a series of epistles (only
two of which Lady Giffard has preserved), is seen
by his acknowledgment of one from her that he feels
so incapable of thanking her for, that he throws the
herculean task back upon herself.

But there is a note of deeper feeling underlying
the florid flattery of this effusion, which is almost —
but not quite — a love-letter. It is the letter of a man
who knows how far he may go, and whose position
is clearly defined ; he is something more than a friend,
but not an accepted lover ; possibly not because of his
own want of merit, but because Lady Giffard meant to
remain a widow.

LETTER II

Oxford, ya««a!ry 2*jth.

I give your Lady^ ten thousand thanks for y® song
you did mee ye hon' to send me which (I see) whether

84 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

you repeat or write hath an extraordinary power over my
mind. It pleaseth his Ma^*^ to send mee upon y^ Decks
of another World and into another sett of storms than
those of Love, not so pleasant nor yet so troublesome,
but I shall not dare to engage in so long a journey
without sacrificing first at your Altar at Sheene and
imploring your good wishes which are to conduct &
reward mee, & if y' Ladys^ will prepare any commands
for me to that part of y® world whither I am going I
shall esteem y"* ye noblest part of my reward & value
myselfe by noe rule so much as your Ladys^' good
opinion which I have been always too ambitious of.
Y' LadysP' humble servant,

W. GODOLPHIN.

It would have been difificult to have ascertained
the exact date of this letter, or to have determined
as to the " decks " of what particular world he was
being banished, but for the following extract from
a letter from Temple, now at Brussels, speaking of
the sacrificial visit to Sheen and the ** idle business
of accounts " (which must have been a signal service
to him), and "welcoming him to Spain," which was
a country he had travelled in himself. This proves
that Godolphin's letter was written on the eve of his
departure as English ambassador to the court of

Philip in.

In Swift's "Life of Sir William Temple" occurs
the letter alluded to : —

To Mr, Godolphin,

Brussels, April i, vis. 1666.

Sir, — Among my few debts I could not have imagined
myself likely to have any in Spain, till my late intelligence

SIR WILLIAM GODOLPHIN'S LETTERS 85

from England, and observation of the winds persuaded
me to it, as my good conscience does, to endeavour at the
satisfaction of them before it be called for.

After I have welcomed you into the climate with the
same cheare and kindness that the sun I know will do,
you must receive my acknowledgment of two letters I had
from you before you left English ground ; but withal
some reproach that you could mingle the expression of
your kindness with that idle business of accompts in which
you are too just, as those you had to deal with were too
merciful, at least much more so than I expected.

Your letter from Sheen was more obliging in making
me believe you met anything in that corner, you could be
entertained or pleased with, but if it were so I fear you
had your revenge, for my wife tells me to my face, in her
letter upon that occasion, that she shall love you while she
lives for the kindness of that visit. What effect this might
have upon an absent man in Spanish air, I know not, but
from this more temperate climate I will assure you that I
am content to share with you the kindness of my best
friends, which is all the quarrel I will raise at this distance
upon this occasion. . . .

In this letter we have a touch of the pleasant
humour so characteristic of his wife's letters, which
Sir William must have been so well able to appre-
ciate and respond to. Lady Temple's expressions
of regard for Godolphin were no mere words, for
she carried on a correspondence with him during his
Spanish embassy, and always held him in the highest
esteem ; and it is plain that if Lady Giffard was cruel,
Mrs. Temple was kind. The request to pay a good-
bye visit to Sheen was granted, and one more letter
reached Lady Giffard before Godolphin sailed for
Spain.

86 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

LETTER III

If you knew how much I was revived at the sight of
the letter you did me y® hon' to send to mee (who delight
so much at every body's good) would doe y^ office which
I find so hard of thanking yourselfe ; & y® satesfaction of
making one so happy as I think myself in your favour
would be a greater reward to your mind y° all my life
can pay you.

I never believed myself happier in any conversation
y** I have done in yours, and since I find that it is possible
for mee to maintain it at this distance I hope I shall never
be deprived of so great a benefit to y® end of my life.

I am very unworthy of y® least thanks from you for
anything I can ever be able to do in this world but I am
ashamed to receive any for any service & have wished
myselfe capable of sending to Mr. Temple whose person
I love so entirely & to whose Virtue I have devoted myselfe
& can never doe myselfe more honour than by esteeming
him & cherishing my friendship with him, which is one of
the greatest blessings Heaven hath bestowed upon me. I
shall entertain you at that time with more of his affaers
resolving to kisse your handes at Sheen within a week
before I goe upon y® wide sea which shall carry me to no
quarter of the world wher my chiefest divertisement will
not bee y® contemplation of those friends that I have
chosen out from y® rest of mankind. — I am, Madam, Y'
most humble & most obedient Servant,

W. GODOLPHIN.

This visit, if not unmixed with the sadness of
farewell, was also not devoid of ** agreeableness."

It was Godolphin's pleasing task to tell the ladies
that the honour of a baronetcy had been conferred on
Temple by the king, in order to give him sufficient
rank to hold the newly invented post of British

SIR WILLIAM GODOLPHIN'S LETTERS 87

resident at Brussels, and as a reward for his zeal
and diplomacy in the mission to the belligerent Bishop
of Munster, which failed through no fault of his.

This appointment and the necessary funds con-
stituted the ''affaers" that the king's messenger pro-
posed to entertain them with, and one can imagine
from what an elaborate network of metaphor and
hyperbole the recipients had to pick out the infor-
mation, and in what flowery phrase Godolphin told
his news at Sheen.

Lord Arlington made the announcement in a plain
and simple manner.

*' Mr. Godolphin," he wrote to Temple, '* will tell
you of the warrent his Majesty has signed for you
without your leave or recommendation, and I hope
your philosophy will enable you to be content to rise
by these slow steps to greater Honours, as your good
parts and zeal in his Majesty's service do qualify you
to deserve them."

Temple made haste to deserve them in a practical
way by sending his Majesty a little douceur in the
form of a Holbein (a possession that is of infinitely
more value to its present possessor, whoever he may
be, than it was to King Charles !), which he presented
in these words : —

Brussels, June 26, 1666.

I shall therefore leave this subject (that of the
Baronetcy) to beg your Majesty's pardon for my pre-
sumption in sending over a picture of Holpeyn's which
was esteemed by my Lord Arundel one of the best of that
hand in his collection. M. Ognate has consented to lay
it at your Majesty's feet where I lay myself with the most
passionate wishes for your Majesty's health and Glory

88 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

and with the most humble sincere devotion that can ever
enter into the heart of — Sir, your Majesty's most obedient
and most loyal subject and servant, W*^- Temple.

Temple, writing to Godolphin again in March
1668, mentions that he **has received lately the
favour of some lines from you in a letter of my wife's,"
but no more letters from him to her are to be found
among Lady Giffard's correspondence, and one can
only wonder if he tried his luck during that farewell
visit to Sheen and failed. Certain it is that he never
married, and spent most of his life in Spain, where he
died in the Roman faith in July 1696, leaving estates
in England, Spain, Venice, Rome, and Amsterdam.
In his last days the poor man seems to have been
left much at the mercy of strangers, and the Duke of
Manchester, then in Godolphin's old post of ambas-
sador at Madrid, wrote a pitiable account of the way
in which he was harried over money. "On the 30th
of March, being bedrid, he was surrounded by priests
and Jesuits urging him to make a will for the benefit
of his soul," which apparently entailed cutting out all
his own relations and leaving his fortune as they
dictated, with a legacy to each of them for masses for
his soul. The ambassador, however, went to his
rescue, and two months later he made another will in
favour of his own relations and some well-chosen
charities. Before leaving England he had made a
testament that might serve excellently well for the
model of a modern will. He left funds to provide for
the education and maintenance of poor scholars, for the
relief of decayed virtuous gentlewomen, the redemp-
tion of prisoners, and the placing out of poor children

SIR WILLIAM GODOLPHIN'S LETTERS 89

in trades ; and as he then made his brother Francis
a trustee for these charitable bequests, one has every
reason to believe that they were carried out to the
benefit of all concerned.

The lines addressed by Sydney Godolphin to
Miss Davis are in manuscript among the Temple
papers. They are of no particular merit, and only
interesting because of the greatness the writer after-
wards attained, rising rapidly from his position of
Groom of the Chamber to be a Privy Councillor and
then Lord High Treasurer of England in Charles's
reign, and Lord High Treasurer of Britain in Queen
Anne's time. He, too, was a friend of Lady Giffard's,
and after many years proved it by rendering a signal
service to a kinsman of hers.

Sydney Godolphin's Verses to Mrs. Davis.

** Chloris it is not thy disdajne
Can ever cover with dispayre
Nor in cold ashes hide that care
Which I have fed with so long paine.
I may perhaps mine eyes refraine
And fruitless words no more impart
But yet still serue, yet serue thee in my hearte.

What though I spend my hapless dayes

In finding Entertainments out.

Careless of what I go about
Or seeke my peace in skilful wayes,
Applying to my Eyes new rayes
Of Beauty and another flame
Unto my Hearte ; my Hearte is still y® same.

'Tis true, that I could love no face
Inhabitted by cold disdain
Taking delight in others paine.
Thy looks are full of native grace
Since then by chance scorn hath her place,
'Tis to be hoped I may in time remove
This scorn one day, one day, by endlesse Love."

M

90 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

Sydney afterwards became the husband of Queen
Katherine's charming maid of honour, Margaret
Blague, whose death at the birth of her child threw
such a deep and unwonted gloom over the court.

The friendship that existed between this beloved
lady and John Evelyn was one of those ideal ones
that Lady Giffard dreamt of, but like everything of
the best and most beautiful in this world it was ** too
fair to last." He tells the whole sad story of her
death in his diary — how her husband sent for him and
his wife when they were in church one sultry Septem-
ber day of that " excessive hot autumn" of 1679, and
they promptly "tooke boate for Whitehall," to find
her at the point of death ; and how her husband, being
too broken down by her loss to do his part, had fallen
down as one dead, and Evelyn himself had the melan-
choly privilege of closing the eyes of the beloved lady,
and ''dropping" a tear on the cheek of the "deare
departed friend, lovely even in death " ; and how find-
ing among her papers, which he and her husband
sorted together, a desire to be buried in the ** dormi-
torie " of the Godolphin family, they carried her in a
hearse and six horses, attended by about thirty of the
relations, to Godolphin in Cornwall, and there laid her
in the parish church by the side of bygone genera-
tions of this ancient family. " So died she in the
26th year of her age, to the inexpressible affliction of
her deare husband and all her relations, but of none
in this world more than myselfe, who lost the most
excellent and estimable friend that ever lived."

Henrietta Blague flashed into notice in the char-
acter of ** Diana " in a magnificent gown covered with
stars and diamonds, and danced with the young Duke

SIR WILLIAM GODOLPHIN'S LETTERS 91

of Monmouth in a ballet written for the Ladies Mary
and Anne of York on their first appearance at court,
by Crowne.

The piece was called " Calisto, or the Chaste
Nymph." The Lady Mary took the part of the heroine ;
the Lady Anne was Nyphe; Sarah Jennings, Mercury;
and Lady Harriet Wentworth, Jupiter. A fateful hour
it was that brought this little group of dancers to-
gether in their harmless frolic. All were handsome,
young, and happy ; yet Tragedy, standing for the time
aside, held a bitter cup for all but one — Sarah Jen-
nings alone of the gay party lived long and prosper-
ously, and throve as her sort proverbially do. Of
Mary the queen and Anne the queen little need be
said. Mary, only a year later, was hurriedly married,
in spite of her tears and protests, to her cousin, William
of Orange, while the handsome and poetical Mulgrave
held her heart. Anne was to live a moderately long
life of constant recurring loss and worry.

Harriet Wentworth was to '*dree her weird," as
wife all but in name to Monmouth, for love of whom
she sacrificed her family, her honour, and her liberty,
living a life of strict seclusion, only visited occasion-
ally by him, and after his death staying on at Nettle-
stead in Suffolk, and expiating her sins in a solitary
life of devotion to charity and religion.

Monmouth was to fall from the highest pinnacle
of royal favour to being a suppliant for his life, and to
die at last a not ignoble death on the scaffold, seeking
in vain with a generous and mistaken sophistry to
reinstate in the eyes of the world the woman who had
so deeply loved him, and whose reputation he had so
fatally injured.

92 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

Only the fierce Sarah was to outlive them all, and
to rule with the coarse tyranny, that only the vulgar
can exercise, the mild and gentle Anne, who in an
unlucky hour had chosen her for her Woman of the
Bedchamber.

LADY SUNDERLAND'S LETTERS

" Whate'er men do or say, or think or dream,
Our motley paper seizes for its theme." — " P."

The name of ** Sacharissa" (Lady Sunderland) is
so well known, and the story of her life already so
delightfully and exhaustively treated by her bio-
grapher, Mrs. Ady, that it would be superfluous to
do more than remind our readers that she was a
Sidney. The glamour that hangs round the very
name of Sidney is familiar to us all — every child
knows the story of Sir Philip and the glass of water,
but he always wants it told to him again ; every one
knows Waller's exquisite " Song of the Rose," and
** Lines on a Girdle," of which Dorothy Sidney was
the theme. Every cultured American who comes to
London makes a pilgrimage to Penshurst, and knows
better than many of her compatriots her portrait
which hangs in a gallery there. It shows us the face
of a laughing girl in a shepherdess's dress. There
are several portraits of her in different *' stately homes
of England," but the Vandyke which hangs in the
beauty-room at Petworth is the one best known to
us, it having been more often engraved. It repre-
sents her at three-quarter length in profile, dressed
in a white, low-cut gown, and rich full sleeves of old-
gold satin which harmonise exquisitely with the ruddier
tones of her hair, dressed in the Henrietta- Maria

Sir Peter Lely pinxit

: ' f t

c c r^ lJ>'K*.c "• ?

LADY SUNDERLAND'S LETTERS 93

style — those curls in which Waller says **a thousand
cupids dwell."

It is the face of a brilliant ** woman of fashion,"
expressing all the pride of birth, the high courage
and dignity one would expect to find in one of her
race. There is power in the grey-blue eyes, and a
suggestion of good humour and mirth in the slight
fulness of the lips and chin ; not a face to suit
present-day taste perhaps, more striking than beauti-
ful, but undoubtedly that of a quite extraordinarily
charming woman, in whom " wit and discretion," as
Dorothy Osborne tells us, " were reconciled in her
person that have soe seldom been persuaded to meet
in anybody else."

**Go, lovely rose!" sang her faithful, life-long
adorer Waller —

" Tell her that wastes her time and me,
That now she knows,
When I resemble her to thee,
How sweet and fair she seems to be."

And again —

" Ye lofty Beeches tell this matchless Dame
That if together ye fed all one flame.
It could not equalise the hundredth part
Of what her eyes have kindled in my heart."

There is an early miniature, too, at Ham House
of the young Lady Dorothy in a blue gown with a
white rose in her hair, painted before the first tragedy
of her life had clouded it, and before perhaps her
greatest happiness had dawned, while she was still
a girl in her father's house. She had married the
gallant Robert Spencer, afterwards Earl of Sunder-
land, who was killed on Newbury battlefield in the
** charge of the Cavaliers." The manner of his death,

94 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

as told by Lloyd, the historian of the civil wars, is so
grand that its memory should be kept green.

** Foremost in that brilliant company which charged
with a kind of contempt and wonderful boldness upon
their foes rode my Lord Sunderland, distinguished
among so many brave men by his heroic bearing.
Again and again he returned to the attack " (against
the serried ranks of trained pikemen) *' with a valour
that made even his enemies wonder, till, as he was in
the act of gathering up his reins to charge again, a
bullet from a trooper's musket struck him. . . .
Calmly and nobly he met his end, and those about
him were surprised to see him die with so few re-
grets ; he lived for some time after receiving the
fatal wound, and" (finishes the narrator) *'his holy
thoughts went as harbingers to Heaven, whereoff he
had a glimpse before he died."

Born and bred among such traditions of noble
deeds, the Sidneys could not but rise above the
sordid motives and actions of many of their contem-
poraries, and Lady Sunderland was in every sense
a great lady. Sir William Temple was one of her
boy admirers, and Dorothy Osborne rallies him about
her not unfrequently in her letters, telling him when
she sends him her own portrait not to ** let it disturb
that of my Lady Sunderland which hangs in your
closet." Perhaps her ladyship's superior age robbed
his affection of anything likely to arouse his mis-
tress's jealousy, for when she wrote these words she
was twenty-six. Lady Sunderland thirty-six, and
Temple twenty-five.

Lady Giffard, we know, was many years younger
than either of the three, and was only a few months

LADY SUNDERLAND'S LETTERS 95

old when Dorothy Sidney married Lord Spencer.
The year Martha Temple was married and widowed,
Lady Sunderland's son came of age. Some ten years
before (nine years after the Earl of Sunderland's
death) she had married Mr. Smythe (afterwards Sir
Robert) of Boundes in Kent ; doubtless she was a
widow for the second time when she wrote her letters
to Lady Giffard, but she always retained her title
of Countess of Sunderland. Her kaleidoscopic letters
are refreshing even after this lapse of time, and one
can imagine with what delight Lady Giffard received
them, bearing as they did the tidings of the things
about which she and Sir William must have been
longing to hear.

Unlike most people of that date, Lady Sunderland
wasted no time in preamble, but dashed fearlessly into
her subject, dismissing it with a few sentences, and ]
flying off again in her breezy fashion to another, •
telling as much in two pages of her beautiful, even
handwriting as others did in four ; and that not
only because she lived in the forefront of the best
society in England, and kept her eyes very wide
open, but because she wrote fearlessly and spon-
taneously, and obviously without any desire to pose I
as a ** polite letter writer," but only anxious to tell
her friends what she thought would most interest
them. One misses the note of sentiment, and the
quaint philosophy of some contemporary writing, such
as Lady Temple's and Lady Russell's ; but if Lady
Sunderland's letters are fuller of facts than of fancies, |
they are none the less valuable for that.

Carefully folded and endorsed by Lady Giffard's
hand, these letters lie before us. Time has faded the

96 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

** sable flood in which she stained the silver of her
pen " to so faint a tint that the strongest light is
required to read them, though every word is as clear
as print. They are signed with the letters ** D. S."
interlaced in a monogram — a signature that never
changed with her changing fortunes, and stood equally
for Dorothy Sidney, Dorothy Spencer, Dorothy Sun-
derland, and Dorothy Smythe. They are innocent of
date, as one has learnt to expect. Hitherto only
twenty-four of her letters have been known to the
world, but since these have lain by unnoticed all these
years, who knows how many more may be still hidden
in the drawers and cabinets of the descendants of her
correspondents ?

Thirteen of the published letters are written to her
favourite brother, Henry Sidney, and the rest to her
son-in-law and friend, Henry Savill, Lord Halifax,
and are in the collection of the Duke of Devonshire.
Ninety years ago they were published by Lord John
Russell, bound up with his life of Lord and Lady
Russell, and in 1893 they were reprinted in Mrs.
Henry Ady's book ** Sacharissa."

The correspondence with Lady Giffard is of an
earlier date by some ten or eleven years ; the letters
are undated, but they date themselves by the histori-
cal events mentioned in them, and were written in
1668-69.

Lady Sunderland's second marriage provoked a
great deal of criticism, and probably was something
more than a nine days' wonder in her world. Dorothy
Osborne, who apparently only knew her very slightly
at the time of writing, was very much upset at it, and
commented on her ladyship's affairs in several of her

LADY SUNDERLAND'S LETTERS 97

letters to Sir William Temple. She was curiously
irritable at the marriage. '* Who would ever have
dreamt he (Mr. Smith) should have had my Lady
Sunderland, though he be a very fine gentleman and
does more than deserve her. I think I shall never
forgive her one thing she said of him, which was that
she married him out of pity ; it is the pitifullest saying
that ever I heard, and made him so contemptible that
I should not have married him for that reason." Most
women will share Dorothy's disapproval, but perhaps
it would be only fair on Lady Sunderland to take the
writer's remarks with the proverbial, and ever excellent,
grain of salt !

In a letter written a little later she says : " At
this present we so abound with stories of my Lady
Sunderland and Mr. Smith ; with what reverence he
approaches her, and how like a gracious Princess
she receives him, that they say 'tis worth going twenty
miles to see it. All our ladies are mightily pleased
with the example, and I'll undertake Sir Solomon
Justinian wishes her in the Indies lest she should
pervert his wife ! "

In yet another letter more gossip on the subject
is detailed. '* I have heard," she says, ** that they
are very happy, but withal that she is a very extra-
ordinary person, and aims at doing extraordinary
things." (So people sought after notoriety even in
those days ! — though one is not inclined to believe
that a lady made so celebrated by the greatest poet
of the day had any need to seek it, and one may
well believe with the *' bold " minority that she did
it because she loved him.) Her marriage was strictly
private, as became her widowhood, and took place in

N

98 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

the chapel at Penshurst. Her father, Lord Leicester's
brief entry in his diary has been mentioned by several
modern writers: "Thursday, July 8, 1652. My
daughter Spencer was married to Sir Robert Smith
at Penshurst, my wife being present with my daughters
Strangford and Lucy Pelham, Algernon and Robert
Sidney, &c., but I was in London."

His lordship would appear to have shorn his
daughter of her title to adorn her husband with it, for
she was undoubtedly Lady Sunderland, while he was
plain " Squire Smith " at that time, though according
to the old qualification for knighthood he probably
had every right to the honourable prefix. Some years
later he succeeded his father in the baronetcy, but
Sacharissa preferred being Lady Sunderland to Lady
Smythe, and still retained her first husband's name.

LETTER I

If Madam you dislike my payment of two letters
for one acuse yourselfe for beginning with one, and this
Towne for your being ill entertained, for if that would
punishe me I would write it, at least all I could get
brought to me, for tho' I am not sicke I have bine little
abroade to helpe me. Your sister will now bee satisfied
her intelligence was true, concerning my Lady Harvie,
for I suppose she knowes that she has not bine at Court
since the King's seeing that she tooke to herselfe repre-
sented affter she had made so publicke a complaint of it
and now she expects some favourable expressions from
his Ma.*'® to encourage her coming againe, but yet that is
not obtained though it has bine much endeavoured, but
the King being a very civill person, and she having
a mind to be sattisfied the busynesse will probablye be
don. Tis a dangerous thinge I finde for Ladyes to brage

LADY SUNDERLAND'S LETTERS 99

of power in State affaires and I am confident it has
caused that to be don that would not have bine to any
other gentlewoman. Her brother is extremely concerned
in her disgrace wh. has bine nowe a greate while to satisfy
those who did not wishe her in favour. I believe nobody
is unwillinge she should showe herselfe in the Drawing-
roome, the Queene has taken no notice of this businesse
except very privately. She received the Portugall envoy
very coldly that brought the news of the young Princes
yet she says now the Pope has confirmed the marriage
she has nothing to say. She has danced country dances
two or three times of late but not the King at all. The
Duchess of Richmond looks very well but it dos noe
wonders except my Lord of Brisstol's (Bristors ?) fitts
of the Mother wch. he has very often and weepes after
them licke a woman. I thinke there is noe Premier
Minister here nor any greate favorite, those who have
had most have soe still. What will be don with my Ld.
of Ormond is not knowne to the Vulgar but guess he
will goe out more than who shall come in. The Duchesse
is as well as is possible and has as fine a childe as ever
was seene. I should with greate pleasure send the
newes of the Queene's being towards her condition.
Mr. Montague goes presently my Ld. Harry Howard
will goe noe further than Tangiers till he knowes if
. . . will receive him well, My Lady Devonshire was
used wth such great respect that day she cristened
the Duke's childe that it will make her live a yeare
the longer, she did not stirre a step but w*^ the two
greatest men w*^ white staffes to leade her. The
Kinge opened the dore for her to shorten her way
to the Queene w*^ whome she satt downe. Some would
have cryed down my Lord Newport at his first coming
for .his Livinge, but that is soe good it canot be, there
is none in the Court is better. The Duke of Bucking-
hame has sett up a table three dayes in a week that is
very fine and great, and he says shall be very constant

100 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

and orderly, if here is not toe much of this strife I
am mistaken, w^^ you shall never be Madam in thinking
me your Lyships affectionate and very faithful Servant.
I present my services to yr. Brother and Sister.

** Your sister (Lady Temple) will now bee satisfied
her intelligence was true concerning my Lady Harvie,"
&c. &c. So writes Lady Sunderland. Pepys' version
fills up the gaps for us and gives us the story in full,
to which our correspondent only alludes en passant.
Writing on the 15th January 1668, he says : "To Sir
W. Coventry, where with him a good while in his
chamber talking of the great factions at Court this
day, even to the engaging of great persons and differ-
ences, and making the King cheap and ridiculous. It
is about my Lady Harvie s being offended at Doll
Common's acting of Sempronia to imitate her for wh.
she got my Lord Chamberlain her kinsman to im-
prison Doll, upon which my Lady Castlemaine make
the King to release her and to order her to act it
again worse than ever, the other day when the King
was there himself, and since it was acted again and
my Lady Harvie provided people to hiss her and
fling oranges at her, but it seems the heat is come
to a great height and real troubles at Court about it."

It really seems incredible that Charles should have
been so weak as to listen to Lady Castlemaine's spiteful
suggestion, or that he should have been so discourteous
as to countenance the vulgar insult, and equally in-
credible that a lady of Lady Harvie's position could
stoop to so vulgar a retaliation. But it must be con-
ceded that she had ample provocation.

The name of ** Sempronia" had long stood for

LADY SUNDERLAND'S LETTERS loi

a consequential female politician ; ever since Ben
J onsen's clever play first appeared on the stage in
1611, at His Majesty's (James L) Theatre.

Report said that Lady Harvie had laid herself
open to a similar rebuke besides her other indiscretion.
In her case the actress was Mrs. Cory, popularly
known as ** Doll Common," on account of her success
in that part in another play, ''The Alchemist."

The play in question was " Catiline's Conspiracy,"
and the particular scene which gave such offence to
Lady Harvie was the second in the play.

Some student better versed in the history of the
Restoration may find other heads on which the caps
of Catiline's conspirators may have fitted, and made
the play the ''mirth compelling" comedy it evidently
was in this eighth year of Charles's reign.

There had been too much feminine influence
brought to bear on him of late, and Charles was
tired of it. He had already told Lady Castlemaine
she "was a jade, and meddled with matters that did
not concern her," and smarting under the reprimand
which gave her enemies (who were not a few) the
opportunity of scoffing at her, she planned this mean
revenge on a lady of character and position ; for Lady
Harvie, who was the wife of Sir Daniel Harvie, an
ex-ambassador, was a woman of some mark, and (for
all the ridicule cast on her) a personage — a force to
be counted with. St. Evremond describes her as
being "gifted with wit," and having "a genius for
the most refined politics " (qualities she certainly did
not exhibit on this occasion !). He tells us too that
" she had a great hand in several changes of the
Ministry " at this moment. Of course changes of the

102 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

utmost importance were being made, as we know, and
the poor lady had been putting her dainty finger into
the political pie, no doubt, and had drawn out not a
plum but a stone.

Once, when on a visit to Paris, she had become
acquainted with Monsieur de la Fontaine, who dedi-
cated one of his fables to her, saying that it was she
who had suggested it to him.

The verses are couched in the usual "gallant"
style, and leave a very good impression of her : —

" A Madame Harvie.

" Le bon coeur chez vous est le compagnon du bon sens,
Avec cent qualites trop longues h deduire,
Une noblesse d'ame, un talent k conduire,

Et les affaires est les gens.

Une humeur franche, et libre ; le don d'etre aime,
Malgre Jupiter, et les temps orageux.
Tout cela merite un eloge

II en eut ete moins selon votre genie

La Pompe vous deplait I'Eloge vous ennuie."

In later years Garth called the Duchess of Marl-
borough '* Sempronia." Protesting against her abuse
of power and domineering conduct towards the queen's
uncle. Lord Rochester, he wrote —

" I foresee his fate,
To be supplanted by Sempronia's hate,
Sempronia of a false procuring race.
The Senate's grievance, and the Court's disgrace."

Mr. Montague, who **goes presently," is Ralph,
a younger brother of Catherine's first Master of the
Horse, Edward Montague, a gallant young fellow who,
report said, raised his eyes too boldly to the queen.
As *' one man may steal a horse while another mayn't
look over the wall," so poor Catherine, who had to
suffer such a woman as Lady Castlemaine in close

LADY SUNDERLAND'S LETTERS 103

attendance on her, and see her royal husband playing
the cavaliere seruante to the abandoned women of
his court, was not even allowed the solace of the
respectful regard and thoughtful care of one loyal
gentleman ! Pepys, who disliked him, said *' his Pride
was his undoing," and *' affecting to be so great with
the Queen, and having more care of her than any-
body else." M. de Cominges, the French ambassador,
said **he was as well made, and as witty as any
gentleman in England," and thought none the worse
of him for the gallant homage he rendered the queen.
It cost him his life, however ; for, banished from the
court, he joined the Fleet, and was killed in a sea
fight off Bergen. One more grief for the lonely little
queen.

By the urgent recommendation of the Duke of
York this brother Ralph, of whom Lady Sunderland
speaks, was given Edward's place, but he only held
it a short time, and it was to Paris as our ambassador
he was going ** presently," which meant **at once."

The Duchess of Richmond was the king's cousin,
Frances Stewart — ** La belle Stuart " — already men-
tioned (see p. 44). Her beautiful face and figure is
familiar to us all on the back of our penny pieces, for
Philip Rotier, the royal medallist, being employed
on designs for a copper coinage, took her for his
ideal of Britannia.

Pepys saw her in Catherine's train on that memor-
able and happy day when the king rode " hand in
hand with the Queen before all the Ladies and gallants
of the court," while '*my Lady Castlemaine, with a
yellow plume in her hat, looking mighty out of humour,
rode unattended behind with the other ladies." He

104 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

(Pepys) " followed them up to Whitehall and into
the queen s presence, where all the ladies walked and
talked, and fiddling with their hats and changing and
trying them on each other's heads, the finest sight " —
to him — '* considering their great beauties and dress " ;
but the best of all was '' Mrs. Stuart in her riding
dress with her hat cocked, and a red plume, and her
sweet eyes, little Roman nose, and excellent tailleT
He thought her the greatest beauty he had ever seen
in his life, and he was so astute as to ** verily believe "
(what Lady Castlemaine had already learnt) that she
was cause of the king's coldness to her.

Charles's affection for his beautiful cousin was of
a higher quality than that with which he ** honoured "
many others. She was a born coquette, and gossip
was soon busy with her name, but she did not allow
herself to forget the queen, and the charming story
of her '* rapprochement " with Catherine is told by
Miss Strickland ; it shows the good heart of the
beautiful maid-of-honour who might have been another
** Anne Boleyn."

When she learnt how much in earnest the king
was in his devotion to her, even to the point of
allowing his ministers to discuss the advisability of
procuring a divorce so that he might marry her, she
realised the pain she had necessarily caused the
queen, and professed herself ready to marry any
honourable gentleman who possessed an income of
^1500 a year, and thus put an end to the other
disgraceful project. The king was naturally furious
at this unexpected move, but Frances threw her-
self at the feet of the queen, and with tears of
penitence implored her to forgive her past folly and

LADY Sl^NDERLAND'S LETTERS 105

thoughtlessness in exposing her Majesty to so much
uneasiness and indignity ; and implored her protection
in the future.

Catherine, who was clever enough to detect the
true from the false, and amiable enough to refrain
from reproving her, comforted her with assurances
of forgiveness, and permitted her to be constantly in
her presence.

In the meantime the courtiers, willing as they well
might be to wed with the loveliest and most charming
girl at Whitehall, held aloof from entering into rivalry
with the king, till at length her cousin, the Duke of
Richmond and Lennox, was brave enough to come
forward as a candidate for her hand. His suit was
sternly refused by Charles, who forbade either party
to think of such presumption, for he had no mind to
see the then reigning queen of his heart the bride of
another man.

Frances, however, was sincere in her desire to
stand no longer between husband and wife, and, aided
(some writers have said) by the queen herself, she
clandestinely married her cousin, who was desperately
in love with her.

The Chancellor, Lord Clarendon, who had such a
hand in making the king's marriage, is said to have
urged on the Stewart-Richmond alliance, and thereby
mortally offended Charles, and hastened his own fall.
Some time elapsed after this blow to the king's sus-
ceptibilities before there was any further rumour of a
divorce, and thus indirectly Frances was able to make
life easier for the queen.

Lord "Bristow" (Bristol's) ''fits of the mother"
had been the cause of much ribald mirth ever since

o

io6 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

he had concerned himself (many people thought, with-
out sufficient warrant) in the marriage projects of the
king. He was an officious busybody who meant well
but habitually blundered, and was too fond of settling
other people's affairs. He had been violently opposed
to the Portuguese match, and had schemed with the
Spanish Ambassador to prevent it, trying to raise the
kings interest in some '' beautiful ladies of Italy,
and magnifying their persons and conversations, in
which arguments," says Clarendon, '' he had naturally
a very luxurious style, unlimited by any rules of truth
or modesty."

Neither his plots and plans, nor his malicious little
tales, scraped up in a journey he took to hostile
Spain for the purpose of proving the Infanta of
Portugal an unsuitable wife for the king, had availed
anything, as we know ; and every new addition to the
family of the Duke of York (who already had three
children) brought on a spasm of regret, and opened
the floodgates of his lordship's grief and despair.
His daughter was married to Lord Sunderland (Sach-
arissa's only son). She seems to have inherited her
father's espieglerie, and a few years later became one of
the '' Sempronias " of her time. She was no favourite
of her mother-in-law's, and came in for a well-merited
share of the satire her father's officiousness provoked.

Buckingham, who was ''setting up his tables," was
of course George Villiers, one of that band of brilliant
sinners that surrounded the king. Less wicked than
Shaftesbury, less coarse than Rochester, he was
stronger than the first, and far more dangerous than
the second, and his enmity to the Duke of Ormond
was bitter and unrelenting. Men of the calibre of the

LADY SUNDERLAND'S LETTERS 107

great duke have no chance against the unscrupulous-
ness of the Buckinghams of the world — they cannot
without loss of dignity cope with their intrigues and
plottings and frivolity ; besides, Ormond's youngest
son had been so audacious as to carry off Bucking-
ham's niece, and the heiress of his house !

At the time Lady Sunderland was writing he
was at the height of his power, but the fatality which
haunted the heads of his family did not desert this
fifth and last duke ; he " died in a poor cottage in
Yorkshire in 1687, having squandered the princely
fortune his father left him, in extravagance and riotous
living, leaving nothing behind him," wrote a con-
temporary diarist (Edmund Bohun), '' but a reputa-
tion for wit and imagination and briskness of fancy,
but of no judgment, piety, or moral virtue."

A writer of a century later is more charitable, and
has a plea for him which is so naive, I cannot for-
bear quoting it at length. The Reverend Dionysius
Lardner (a gentleman with a whole regiment of
letters after his name), in writing a treatise on the
manufacture of glass in his " Cabinet Encyclopaedia,"
feels certain that a man who could have projected the
art of making glass in England could not have been
so black as he has been painted ! Did he imagine, I
wonder, that Buckingham, living in a ** glass house " as
he certainly did, forbore to ** throw stones"? If so,
he was very far from the truth, for the duke could
throw stones as well as anybody ; and, as the Duke
of Ormond found, his missiles were sharp and well
directed. But this is what the Reverend Dionysius
says : —

** The second Duke of Buckingham has the merit

io8 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

of much improving the manufacturing of British glass
by means of certain Venetian artists he brought to
London in 1670. Three years later the first English
glass plates were made at Lambeth under the auspices
of this nobleman. The violence of party spirit which
characterised that age should lead us to receive with
caution all estimates of character which we find by
contemporary chroniclers. Although there was un-
questionably much of vice and profligacy in the general
conduct of this favourite of a vicious and profligate
master, we may hesitate to believe that the man who
could apply himself to letters and interest himself in
the useful arts of life could at the same time be as
depraved in heart and mind as the pages of history
has represented."

In her second letter Lady Sunderland tells of the
dismissal of Ormond from the Lord- Lieutenancy of
Ireland, an event that was passionately desired by
Buckingham.

The Portugal envoy whom the queen received
coldly must have been he who brought to England
the news that the Cortes had sworn fealty to Dom
Pedro, her younger brother, who, with the Pope's
permission, was not only about to be placed on the
throne that had been taken from the imbecile elder
one, but to appropriate his wife as well. The long
struggle with Spain, and the subsequent civil war
between the two princes, Alphonso and Pedro, had
so impoverished her country that poor Catherine had
been unable, even with Lord Arlington at her back,
to secure as much as the arrears of her promised
allowance ; so it was not surprising that the empty-
handed envoy was received without enthusiasm by

LADY SUNDERLAND'S LETTERS 109

this poor lady, who found, added to her other troubles,
that of poverty.

The dancing of country dances by the queen at
this period is much commented on by writers of the
day. Her figure was unsuited to the corantes and
brawls then in fashion, and contrasted ill with the
graceful forms of the English beauties. Her failure
to please is pathetic, for it meant perhaps happier
days that had dawned for the neglected queen ; the
king was kinder, Frances Stewart was wedded and
remained her friend. She felt, perhaps, that among
all the shameless wantons that thronged her court
there was one woman at least who could dare to
take her own line, to withstand the flatteries of the
king, and be loyal to the queen. This knowledge had
perhaps more to do with the queen's altered demeanour
than the court quite realised.

''The Duchess of Richmond looks very well,"
wrote Lady Sunderland, with disappointing brevity.
Naturally every one was talking of the reappear-
ance of the ex-maid-of-honour as Duchess of Rich-
mond— a position she filled with honourable pride,
refusing to hold any communication with the king,
but desiring permission to kiss the queen's hand on
her marriage. This course of conduct won poor
Catherine's gratitude, but perhaps served rather to
inflame than deaden the king's passion for Frances.
Sir John Dalrymple tells how, when she fell sick of
the smallpox, Charles's anxiety conquered all fear of
infection and prudence, and he paid her several visits
in her sick-room — visits that perhaps the poor lady,
though doubtless touched by his devotion and con-
tempt of danger from infection, would rather have

no LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

dispensed with. Pepys also records a romantic ad-
venture of the king's, when one Sunday, having
ordered the guards and coach to be ready to take
him to the Park, he suddenly dashed into a boat,
and with a single pair of sculls, and all alone (except
perhaps for one attendant), went by water to Somerset
House, where, the garden door not being open, he
scaled the wall to visit the duchess, apparently with
the intention of taking her by surprise. One would
like to know what sort of reception his Majesty
received — a kindly one we can imagine, for few
women could be so hard-hearted as not to pardon so
pretty a compliment to herself even at the sacrifice,
which she perhaps regretted, of his kingly dignity ;
and the light touch of comedy could not have failed
to raise a smile, even if it were at the royal adorer's
expense.

LETTER II

Jan. 28/>4(i668).

So great news as the change of the Lieutenant of
Ireland will be in all letters, yet that doe not acquit me
from any mension of it Madame, because you did inquier
after it in your last to me. Sunday the King at my Lord
Keepers dismissed the Duke of Ormond from it with many
gracious expressions that it was not for any fault or mis-
carriages of his governing on any declination of his kind-
ness to his person which he would shew by taking him
into all his counsels, the Duke of Ormond made a long
speech to the King and then complimented my Ld. Roberts
which he more than returned, soe very much civiHty past
since he attends the King with the very same dilligence he
did before with as much submission and humility as is
possible and severetye to his enemies.

The Duke of Buckingham has his greatest desire in

LADY SUNDERLAND'S LETTERS iii

his being out but not all tis thought because he did not
choose his successor.

A Tuesday the King dined at the Dutch Embassador's
they will all treate him I believe and none worse than the
French did except that their cooks are better than others,
for 'twas as poore as could be on such an occasion, and
the man stood at the doore, taking care himselfe of his
plate, and they say to have the sweetnesses saved but I
think that cannot be. An old coustom is abohshed, no
Valentines were drawn out of thrift, the Maydes of Honour
have a losse by it for twas their fees, if my Lady Harvie
wear not at Arlington House she would be forgot she is
gott in a little with the Duchess of Monmouth again soe
far as to see her sometimes. She has the courage only to
resolve to have her hip set but not to suffer it to be don,
when she goes about it, makes litle tryalls and then begs
of them to let her alone. This has been a very quarrel-
some week, before the King my Ld. of Rochester forgot
his dutye so much as to strike Tome Keeligrew, he was
in a case not to know what he did but he is forbid the
court and Brunkard and Sir John Morton were so high in
wordes in the Queen's Privye chamber that they were both
committed by my Ld. Chamberlain. My Ld. Burleigh
goes a-woing as they call it, with hopes that his Father
and my Ld. of Devonshire will not agree, he can endure
my Lady Rich as well as any other wife, but he had rather
have none. If you are as diligent to my ill letters as
others that are so, 'tis as much as is due to me though I
am your Ladyships very affectionate servant.

My service to yr. Brothers and sister.

Lady Sunderland begins her second letter with the
news that she knows her friend is most anxious to
hear — that of the manner of the Duke of Ormond s
dismissal from the Lord-Lieutenancy of Ireland, and
the name of his successor. All this is so much a

112 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

matter of contemporary history, that this is no place
to enlarge upon it. What chiefly interests us is the
description of the king's courteous demeanour, the
duke's graceful acceptance of the situation, and the
pretty compliment that passed between him and his
successor, Lord Roberts, or Robartes, as it is often
written. This Lord Roberts was an ex- Puritan
general, **a man of more than ordinary parts, versed
in knowledge of the law, and esteemed of an integrity
that could not be corrupted by money, but sullen,
morose, and inordinately proud, and had some humours
as inconvenient as small vices, which made him hard
to live with."

This is taken from Clarendon's character of him,
and the wildest imagination could not conjure up a
man so unsuited for the post. Happily for him (as
well as for Ireland) he never took up his appointment
there ; and after a few months' dallying on account
of funds which, as usual, were not forthcoming, he
was offered the Privy Seal for a sop if he would
resign the post of Lord Deputy, which he did with
alacrity.

The dinner at the Dutch Ambassador's is chron-
icled elsewhere, but its quaint parsimonious details
are new to us.

One is glad to hear that Lady Harvie has '* got in
again a little with Lady Monmouth," and that she has
the countenance of her father. Lord Arlington, now
Lord Treasurer, and in high favour with his Majesty !
— for one cannot but feel that though she foolishly put
herself out of court by her most undignified mode of
retaliation, she was, in the first instance, very hardly
treated. To be held up to ridicule by a paid actress

LADY SUNDERLAND'S LETTERS 113

on a public stage with a full house of her personal
friends, was, to say the least of it, annoying ; and to
be set at nought, and subjected to fresh insult at the
instigation of such a woman as Lady Castlemaine,
must have been galling in the extreme, and none the
less because she had more or less courted it by her
unseemly revenge on the actress.

Tom Killigrew's historic box on the ears is
chronicled with rather more detail by our old friend
Samuel Pepys, for Lady Sunderland does not give us
the sequel as he does, and omits to say that though Lord
Rochester was forbid the court for his silly horseplay,
yet he was seen next morning walking with the king
in Pall Mall, apparently on excellent terms with his
Majesty ; a want of dignity on the part of Charles
which Pepys severely criticises : " See how cheap the
King makes himself, and the more for that the King
hath not only passed by the thing and pardoned it to
Rochester, but this very morning the King did
publickly walk up and down, and Rochester I saw
with him as free as ever, to the King's everlasting
shame to have such an idle rogue his companion."
This episode occurred on the i6th February 1668.

'* Brouncker, and Sir John Morton, were so high in
words in the Queen's Privy Chamber that they were
both committed by my Lord Chamberlain," writes
Lady Sunderland. '' After dinner I to the Town,"
writes Pepys, on the 4th of March in the same year,
** where I find Sir W. Coventry with abundance of
company with him ; and after sitting awhile and hear-
ing some merry discourse, and among others of Mr.
Brouncker being this day summoned to Sir Wm.
Morton (one of the Judges) to give security for his

P

114 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

good behaviour upon his words the other day to Sir
John Morton, a parliament-man at Whitehall who had
heretofore spoken very highly against Brouncker in
the House, I went away to Aldgate."

Lady Sunderland rather makes fun of Lady Mon-
mouth's lack of courage to have her hip set, taking it
for granted that Lady Giffard knew about her accident,
which she probably did. Pepys tells us how it hap-
pened : ** Last night the Duchess of Monmouth dancing
at her lodgings has sprained her thigh." A few days
later, on the 15th May, he writes : "The Duchess of
Monmouth's hip is I hear now sett again after much
paine." On the 3rd of July he records ''that she is
still lame and likely alwais to bee, which is a sad
chance for a young lady to get only by trying tricks
in dancing." The end of September sees the poor
duchess ** in great trouble for the shortness of her
lame leg wh. is likely to grow shorter and shorter that
she will never recover it." How the poor lady must
have regretted those futile ** little tryalls" that were to
cost her so dear.

The abolition of valentines must have been a
terrible blow to the poor maids-of-honour, who had
hitherto depended on them for their pocket-money, if
not for more necessary expenses. The custom was,
on the eve of the 14th of February, to draw for valen-
tines with the gallants of the court, who were expected
to make their lady a substantial present. The Duke
of York is said to have given Frances Stewart a jewel
worth ^700 on one occasion, when she had the good
fortune to draw him ; and though like everything else
liable to abuse, and rather a drain on the purses of
those who sat in high places, it was a pretty custom,

LADY SUNDERLAND'S LETTERS 115

and it seems a pity to have abolished it, so at least
the "maydes" must have thought.

Lord Burleigh, who "goes a-wooing" with so bad
a grace, was the eldest son of John Cecil, fourth Earl
of Exeter ; and the " Lady Rich" whom he could put
up with as well as with any other woman, was Anne
Cavendish, only daughter of the Earl of Devonshire
and widow of Charles, fourth Lord Rich, son of the
Earl of Warwick, and a grandson of the celebrated
'' Penelope." One of Lord Burleigh's sisters (Lucy)
was Lord Robartes' wife. Lady Devonshire was
Anne, daughter of William Cecil, third Earl of
Exeter.

This Lord Newport, who had "lately come to his
living," was the son of a great Royalist, and had him-
self fought valiantly under the royal banner till 1644,
when he was taken prisoner by the Parliamentarians.
At the Restoration he was taken into the king's
service, and first made Comptroller of the Household
and then Treasurer. It was to the appointment of
Comptroller that Lady Sunderland probably alludes,
a post that many no doubt coveted ; and in those
days when rewards and honours were meted out pro-
miscuously at the caprice of the sovereign with little
regard for worth or merit, a successful man had to
count with a host of enemies in those who had
formerly been his friends perhaps, or who, at all
events, had hitherto wished him no ill.

" Crying down " seems to have been a very
general accomplishment in these times, and the new
Comptroller of the Household was no favoured ex-
ception to the rule ; every man " cried down " the
man who stood one step above him on the ladder of

ii6 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

success, and if he ** cried" long enough and loud
enough, down he came! Later on in the days of
Queen Anne, when the women held the ropes, my
Lady This ''cried down" my Lady That, and stepped
triumphant into her place ; but this was not yet, for
though Charles allowed himself to be governed by the
women, he did not encourage or suffer them to meddle
with the affairs of state or office.

Lady Sunderland's comment on that very un-
fortunate measure, the recalling of the Duke of
Ormond from Ireland, whither he had gone against
his own inclinations and Clarendon's judgments, from
the highest and most loyal motives, shows how
obvious it was to all observers that for the time at
least it was the Duke of Buckingham who pulled the
strings.

It is difficult to leave Lady Sunderland without
some more flattering tribute to her adoring bard than
that accorded by "Orinda" to Waller, whose im-
perishable verse has brought her deathless fame ; we
find one among the fugitive scraps of writing hoarded
in **the Cabinet." The paper is a sort of ** apprecia-
tion" of the poet — or perhaps a fragment of some
essay begun and never finished. It reads thus :

" Waller the Poet."

'* Yet among the great ones of his age he complimented
few y* had not something shining in their characters at
the time he made court to them. You don't perceive he
ever courted any of the L^ Treasurers not even honest
Juxon. Nor did he afterwards bestowe his praise on
stupid Lenthall, Bradshaw, Hampden or Hazelrigg. If

LADY SUNDERLAND'S LETTERS 117

he may be thought under cover of the storm to make his
approaches to my L^ Richard he does not name him, and
in his Poem on the Restoration he does not so much as
mention the great Instrument of it the Prevaricator Monk.
He had celebrated the Earl of Sandwich before. K. James,
when Waller gave 'advice to a Painter' was in great
esteeme in ye World, and when he came to the Crown
a terror to all who had voted freely in the Parliament
before."

This appreciation is in the handwriting of Montague
Bacon, the learned fellow of Trinity, Cambridge ; but
whatever he may have conceived of Waller's character,
Addison tells another tale (or rather quotes, for he
could not have been present), an anecdote which
declares that Waller was not always above taking
poetical licence with his principles, and that during
the Commonwealth he paid his court to Cromwell,
but when King Charles returned he changed his tune,
and wrote the poem in question extolling the happi-
ness which must necessarily flow from that very
monarchical form of government he had previously
considered as a species of tyranny, and unjust restraint
on English liberty. So the story goes that when he
presented his effusion, as was then the custom, to the
king in a crowded drawing-room, his act, and even
his appearance at court, made quite a little stir, for
many of the company, knowing or believing that he
had tried to ingratiate himself with the Cromwells,
both Oliver and Richard, were eager to hear how the
king would receive him, and quite expected to see
him forbid the court and his introducer severely repri-
manded. They had, however, yet to learn the char-
acter of the king, who, taking the verses from him,

ii8 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

read them to himself and then looked at Waller with
a smile.

** These verses," he said, ** are extremely good,
but I think some of those you wrote to Cromwell
were better."

Waller, with a presence of mind and adroitness
equal to his other talents, bowed low as he answered,
" O, may it please your Majesty, we poets always
write better on fiction than on truth."

A quick wit was, as we know, always a passport
to Charles's affection, and Waller's writings were ever
after received with favour.

This time it was the author who had the last word,
but more often in the clash of wits it was the king
himself.

Gregoris Leti, the Italian historian, did not come
off quite as well on a somewhat similar occasion.
Some years later he was known to be seeking ** copy"
in the English court, and one day when he attended
a lev^e the king asked him how his book was pro-
gressing, and added (for he had perhaps had enough
of that sort of thing with Evremond and de Gram-
mont!), ** I hear you are publishing some anecdotes of
our courts — take care that there be no offence in it."

" Sire," answered the Italian, " I am certainly
collecting material for such a work, and I will be as
careful as possible, but unless a man be as wise as
Solomon he cannot publish anecdotes without giving
some offence."

**Why then," replied the king, ** cannot you be
as wise as Solomon and write proverbs and leave
anecdotes alone ? "

PART V

1668. Charles II
AT THE HAGUE

" Men in great places are thrice servants. Servants of the sovereign
or of the state, servants of fame, and servants of business ; so that they
have freedom neither of their persons, nor their actions, nor their
time." — Bacotis Essays,

Sir William Temple had seen enough in his flying
visits to the Hague to know that many and great
would be the difficulties that would beset his path
as England's ambassador there. In the first place
he was to succeed a self-seeking and injudicious
minister in Sir George Downing ; and in the second,
though his country was at peace for the time, as
Sir Thomas Clifford said on the occasion of the re-
joicings over the Triple Alliance, **for all this noise
we shall soon be at war with them again," and it
was, as subsequent events showed, a case of the
** unripe fruit which was gathered too soon," for three
years afterwards (1671) the two nations were once
more in conflict.

Perhaps the greatest difficulty he had to contend
with was the disturbing presence of the young
Prince William of Orange in this republican state.
He was the son of Princess Mary (the eldest
daughter of Charles the First) and of ** William the

Silent," that brave, quiet soldier who bore the burden

119

120 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

of statesmanship and generalship unflinchingly through
the great Dutch revolution of 1643, and whose great
services were rewarded by the independent Hollanders
with an invitation to become their king. This he
refused, and they, with the commercial instincts of
the nation, realising that a king or queen, or figure-
head of some kind, would be a good investment,
pressed the sovereignty on the Princess Elizabeth of
England as well as on the Due d'Anjou ; but no
one apparently had a talent for the part, and the offer
was not passed on to the younger William, who was
now living with his grandmother in the palace in the
wood, and was the source of some anxiety to the
republicans of the Hague.

Temple had strict injunctions to tre.at him with
all the respect due to the nephew of the King of
England, while he was equally bound by the Breda
Treaty not to press his cause in any way with the
Dutch. Luckily he had in the Grand Pensionary a
man devoid of pettiness or jealousy, who willingly
fell in with Temple's ideas of giving the prince
his due.

The first meeting between the youth who was
afterwards William HL of England and Sir William
Temple after his arrival took place two days later.
Having explained the situation fully to De Witt, the
ambassador sent his compliments to the prince, and
requested **an hour of waiting on him."

He found the prince " much improved since last
winter," and noted that he with difficulty accepted the
honours the English ambassador was instructed to
pay him.

Some days later Temple called on the prince

AT THE HAGUE 121

again, and found him tete-a-tHe with De Witt, who
saluted him very kindly and retired, saying he was
** glad to leave the Prince in such good hands."
Temple performed his ceremonies according to his
orders, though with " much deference " on the prince's
side. One can picture the scene — the shy, awkward
boy and the handsome, courtly man going through
the ceremonious performances with elaborate compli-
ments and inclinations which were quite novel to both
of them, with a running accompaniment of protestings
and insistings ! Temple was not without a sense of
humour, and it must have been only the absence of
it in the prince that could have saved disaster !

The English ambassador found him " a most
extreme hopeful Prince, and, to speak plainly, some-
thing better than I expected, and a young man of
more parts than ordinary, and of the better sort, not
lying in that kind of wit which is neither of use to
one's self nor to anybody else, but in good plain
sense, and of extreme good humour and disposition,
and thus far of his way without any vice. Besides
being sleepy always by ten at night, he loved hunting
as much as he hated swearing, and preferred cock-ale
before any sort of wine. I thought it not impertinent
to at once give you his picture, which the little lines
are to make like^ rather than the great ones,

** His person I think you know is very good, and
has much of the princess in it ; and never anybody
raved so much after England, as well the language,
as all else that belonged to it."

To judge from this description of him he was
more pleasing in extreme youth than he was in later
manhood.

122 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

The fourth difficulty that Temple had to contend
with was the uncomfortable suspicion that the English
Government was trying to shuffle out of the terms
of the Triple Alliance ; he was beginning to wonder
why Arlington's letters were more guarded and less
friendly, and it was not long before he was completely
disillusioned. In the meantime there were terms to
settle about trading and maritime rights complicated
by England's new interest in the East India Company.
Then there were the schemes for a quadruple alliance
between Spain, Sweden, Holland, and England which
he desired to advance, and various financial arrange-
ments which he thought would benefit the king ; and
besides all this he had to find his way about in this
proud, self-sufficient little republic without lessening
the dignity of the sovereign he represented. ''His
Majesty spoilt a good Resident to make an ill ambas-
sador," he wailed to Arlington, when the intricacies
of etiquette became too bewildering !

As to the Hague itself, it was in Temple's day
"the most delightful village in the world," and
** travellers who had seen all the magnificent palaces
and rarities of Italy" found themselves charmed with
this quiet Dutch city (by contrast, one must suppose,
not by comparison). " On one side you see a walk
to the sea worthy of the old Roman, on the other you
enter a wood the most agreeable that can be seen,"
where there are " houses enough to make a great city,
and trees enough to make a delicious solitude."

The society of the Dutch republic was, as might
be expected, tant soit pen bourgeois, and lacked the
pomp and circumstance as well as the excitements
and movement of a regal court, but at " certain private

AT THE HAGUE 123

houses could be found there all the innocent amuse-
ments that the country affords, and at that of public
meetings all the busy chat and noise which most
populous cities are able to furnish."

Spiritual matters, too, were managed in Holland
with great moderation ; the differences of religion
which in other countries raised so much commotion
and strong feelings did not in the least ruffle the
torpid minds of the people at the Hague. Every one
sought heaven in his own way, and society recognised
the ** many mansions " and the various roads that lead
to them. ** Those who are thought to go astray are
more pitied than hated, and bespeak from others a
pure charity free from the indiscretion of mistaken
zeal. There is, however," concludes the writer of
these remarks philosophically, *' nothing perfect every
way in this world, and we find fewer polite persons
there than men fit for business, and more good sense
in the management of affairs than delicacy in con-
versation."

Such was the quaint and homely community in
which the English embassy soon became a popular
centre ; a prosaic, well-behaved, irreproachable society,
redeemed from the dead-level of virtuous middle-class
respectability by a little leaven of much less respect-
able nobility : some distinguished exiles, the family of
the Prince of Orange, and not unfrequently visitors
from England, who were made welcome at the
embassy.

Taking advantage of the Grand Pensionary's
permission to remain incognito as long as he liked,
Temple was some time in Holland before he made
his state entry to the Hague, in the face of a vast

124 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

concourse of people, who flocked in from all parts of
the country. He congratulated himself on having
acted against the advice of his friends, who protested
that, with the curtailed allowances and retrenchments
of equipage provided by the Government, he was not
called upon to put himself to any great expense, but
to ** live low " in proportion to it.

"I should have died of despite," he wrote, "had
I followed their advice ; as it was, for aught I hear,
they were all satisfied, and it appeared so by the same
concourse in all the streets at my audience, where
they tell me all the burgomasters in Holland were
come together as well as the States-General ; and it
passed, as far as I could hear, with their satisfaction,
and I am glad it is well over."

Temple had a great idea of upholding the dignity
of the king, and spent all his own private income,
which was not very large, to eke out the scanty
supplies from home. Contributions may have arrived,
too, from Sir John, always generously disposed to-
wards him, who must have been very proud of
his son who had made himself such a position. An
Englishman's idea of hospitality has been in all ages
very different from a continental one, and the burghers
were surprised to see the Prince of Orange so con-
stant a visitor and on such intimate terms that he
"dined about two days a week at the family dinner,"
and, what must have been more surprising still, that
the housekeeper was equal to the occasion !

There was much going and coming, too, among
friends from England. Lord Ossory and Henry
Sidney came, and the republican Algernon also be-
took himself there at one time, to Temple's dismay,

AT THE HAGUE 125

for his position of ambassador made it difficult for him
to entertain him, while his old friendship with the
Penshurst family, however much he might disapprove
of his principles, made it impossible for a man of his
character constantly to ignore him. Besides, Algernon
put him in a dilemma by asking him to send letters
to England for him. They were harmless enough.
Temple believed, one only relating to some Barbary
horses he was getting for the Duke of Northumber-
land, and the other to some family affairs in which
Sir John Temple was concerned ; he therefore took
charge of the letters, but wrote to Arlington for
instructions. Sidney was in such hot water with the
king at that time that his companions were open to
suspicion in high places, and Temple must have
sincerely wished he had not made the request.

" Your Lordship told me I might be civil to him,"
he says, " and just so much I have been on this
occasion ; if I am to take other measures I desire to
receive them from y' Lordship, this being the first
word I have heard of him since my arrival on this
side."

There were difficulties, too, with the various other
ambassadors, and Temple was constantly begging for
instructions as to whom he should give " the hand and
door" — a mysterious ceremony that resolved itself
into no more than the ordinary politeness of an equal
to an equal, and merely meant ** shaking hands" with
and accompanying a departing visitor to the door ; but
the representatives of kings have to be circumspect, and
only the ambassador of a greater monarch or a prince
of royal blood was entitled to so much honour. The
Prince of Tuscany caused him considerable worry,

126 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

with his not-easily-defined precedence ; and, worse
than all, the '^criers down" were at work in England.
The former resident, Sir George Downing, was
making difficulties about money supplies at head-
quarters, and Arlington had been drawn into other
schemes, and for no fault of his own Temple was
daily losing ground. The task they had set him to
do, he had done too well ; for the king was hand and
glove with Louis now, and too much friendliness with
Holland was no longer desirable !

A Dutch gentleman, Mr. Overkirk, a relation of
Lady Arlington, who went over to England, did him,
in all innocence, more harm than good by praising
him to the English ministers, and the unpleasant
change sank slowly into Temple's brain.

** My wings are cut," he wrote to Arlington, ''and
that frankness of my heart which made me think
everybody meant well, as I did, is much allay'd ; and
perhaps 'tis the better, I am sure 'tis the safer for me,
for a minister with this last disposition makes fewer
faults, though with the other he makes greater strokes,
and though I have made shift to end this business,
yet I should not have been capable of beginning it as
I did by our first alliance here when my heart was
free."

He was not yet case-hardened, and the frosty
breath of disapproval chilled him. The Triple
Alliance, which was his glory, and would have been
(Burnet said) *' Charles's masterpiece had he stuck
to it," was dying before his eyes, * * though after so
many shocks and presages of its death there is within
two days some appearance of its recovery," he wrote
to the Prince of Tuscany.

AT THE HAGUE 127

While Temple across the water was trying to
puzzle out the meaning of Arlington's shifting policy,
and to discover how he had offended, the King of
England had become a pensioner of Louis. Temple
had been kept at the Hague just to *' amuse" the
Dutch and keep peace for a time, but the mask was
falling from the faces of the crafty ministers, and
Louis was showing his power by seizing Lorraine.

Temple received a sudden recall.

**His Majesty commands me to let you have his
pleasure that without delay you come privately to
England, leaving your house standing there in the
form it is, acquainting M. de Witt therewith, as also
of his Majesty's purpose to send you speedily back
again."

Wise De Witt smiled at the intelligence, and said
** he would know more if he returned, but in the mean-
time he would try and cure himself and others of his
suspicions at this new development of the game."

Temple arrived in London in October 1670, and
his worst fears were confirmed by his reception at
court. Arlington was closeted with Lord Ashley
when he presented himself at Arlington House, and
kept his old friend an hour and a half in a waiting
room ; and when he at last appeared, his manner was
cold with the ill-ease of an unquiet conscience, and he
would talk of nothing but Temple's journey, even
sending for his little girl out of the next room, and
then admitting Lord Crofts, to preclude any ** par-
ticular conversation."

In despair Sir William Temple solicited the
ordinary presentation to the king. Lord Arlington
took him to him when he was walking in the Mall

128 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

(with eyes and ears turned to anything rather than
poHtics, we may be sure!). '* His Majesty's curiosity
was also confined to the journey without any notice of
the occasion of it."

He could get no assistance from the Lord Keeper,
nor Secretary Trevor ; they were now *' barely in the
skirts of business," Buckingham, Arlington, Ashley
and Clifford being alone in the secret of affairs.

At last Sir Thomas Clifford told Temple of the
determination of the Government to throw overboard
the fruits of all his labour, and to quarrel with their
allies.

" A little heated " after a long and unpleasant
cross-examination. Temple asked the Minister '' what
in the name of God a man could do more ? " To which
in a great rage he answered that '*he would tell him
what a man could do more ; which was to let the King
and all the world know how basely and unworthily the
States had used him, and to declare publicly how
their Ministers were a company of rogues and rascals,
not fit for his Majesty or any other prince to have any-
thing to do with ; and this was a part nobody could do
so well as he 1 "

Temple's reply to this abusive tirade was that he
was *' not a man fit to make declarations, but that when
he did, he should speak of all men what he thought
of them, and so he should do of the States and the
Ministers he had dealt with there."

'' The treatment he had from Lord Arlington did
not pass without being resented," says Lady Giffard
in her '' Life and Character," '' by Sir William, who
had not learned the lesson they say one should always
learn in courts — to swallow everything ! "

AT THE HAGUE 129

A few days later he received a letter from Lady
Temple from the Hague, telling him that she had
heard on good authority from '' P." what he had not
yet suspected, that the Duke of Buckingham was
negotiating with the French king, and that his recall
was likely to be a permanent one, for all Arlington's
promises; ''something was striking up with France,"
and that he had been sent away because he was ''too
great a friend of these people" (the Dutch).

Hague, 31^^ October.

My dearest Heart, — I received yours from Yar-
mouth, and was very glad you made so happy a passage ;
'tis a comfortable thing, when one is on this side, to know
that such a thing can be done in spite of contrary winds.
... I have a letter from P. who says in character that
you may take it from him that the D. B. has begun a
negotiation there, but what success he may have in Eng-
land he knows not : that it were to be wished our politicians
at home would consider well that there is no trust to be
put in alliances with ambitious kings, especially such as
make it their fundamental maxim to be base. These are
bold words, but these are his own. Besides this there is
nothing but that the French King grows very thrifty ; that
all his buildings except fortifications are ceased, and that
his payments are not so regular as they used to be. The
people here are of another mind ; they will not spare their
money, but are resolved, at least the states of Holland (if
the rest will consent) to raise fourteen new regiments of
foot and six troops of horse ; that all the companies, both
old and new, shall be of 120 men that used to be of 50,
and every troop 80 that used to be of 45. Nothing is
talked of but these new levies ; and the young men are
much pleased. Downton says they have strong suspicions
here you will come back no more, and that they shall be
left in the lurch ; that something is striking up with

R

130 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

France, and that you are sent away because you are too
well inclined to these countries ; and my cousin Temple
he says, told him that a nephew of Sir Robert Long's, who
is lately come to Utrecht, told my cousin Temple, three
weeks since, you are not to stay long here, because you
were too great a friend to these people, and that he had
it from Mr. Williamson, who knew very well what he said.
My cousin Temple says he told it Major Scott as soon as he
heard it ; and so 'tis like you knew it before ; but here is
such want of something to say, that I catch at everything.
— I am, my dear's most affectionate D. T.

The contents of this letter (which is published else-
where) show better than pages of assurance could do
how completely Lady Temple was in her husband's
confidence, and of what assistance her intelligent in-
terest in affairs must have been. *' P.," who vouched
for the Duke of Buckingham's intrigues with France, is,
I think, Monsieur Puffendorff, the Swedish agent, who,
watching the progress of matters for his country at
the Hague, was also in the confidence of Turenne, the
French commander in Flanders, and who had seen a
letter from Colbert, the French ambassador in England,
to the field marshal speaking of his negotiations with
the English ministers, whom he boasted of having
made to feel **toute T^tendu de la g^n^rosit6 de sa
Majeste" (Louis XIV.). Thus the shameful bribe of
;^ 1 8,000 on condition of the rupture of the Triple
Alliance — the price of Charles's honour — was no
secret to him ; and so it was that Temple learned that
his recall was a stipulation of the French Government,
and that his interests had been ruthlessly sacrificed to
the exigencies of the hour. He was detained in
England himself, but not allowed to send for his

AT THE HAGUE 131

family, who were left at the Hague to keep up the
fiction of his speedy return ; and it was not until the
summer of 1671 that he was formally displaced from a
post ** in which all Europe regarded him with interest."

In the meantime Holland was being harassed at
sea by France and England, and the Dutch people
were beginning to turn their despairing eyes towards
the Prince of Orange, in whom they saw their chance
of salvation. They made him first admiral and captain-
general, and then Stadtholder of Holland and Zealand
This sudden veering round of the populace resulted in
the massacre of their honest, straightforward governor,
De Witt, and his brother, with the preposterous ex-
cuse that they had tried to murder the prince with a
poisoned waistcoat.

At home, Buckingham and Arlington were at
daggers drawn and no adequate funds were forth-
coming to carry on the desultory war; so in 1672
peace once more became a necessity, the Government
turning in their trouble again to Temple. Arlington
and the Lord Treasurer, Danby (who as Sir Thomas
Osborne twenty years before had been one of Lady
Temple's numerous suitors) vied with one another in
their eagerness to nominate him for the pleasant task
of peacemaker. He accepted the trust and was pre-
paring to start, but the Dutch people spared him the
voyage by empowering the Spanish ambassador,
Marquis del Fresno, to act for Holland, and once
more in the short space of three days Temple con-
cluded an important treaty. This time it was the
** Treaty of Westminster," and was more lasting than
the other.

Arlington still affected **the light tone" with him

132 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

as if he had never played him false, while the king
actually went so far as to write himself to the States,
saying with preposterous untruth that the ambassador
was coming away ''by his own desire and on his
private affairs!"

So, for the ensuing months, while Lady Temple
was keeping up appearances at the Hague, Sir William
was improving his little domain at Sheen, having
withdrawn himself for a time from public life in only
partially concealed disgust. His father had urged him
to make use of his reputation to improve his circum-
stances both socially and financially, and there was
open talk of a peerage for him ; but whether from a
shy pride, or from injured feelings, he discouraged
with determination all suggestions of the kind, say-
ing he was ** resolved never to ask anything of his
Majesty except to serve him well," which was some-
what hard on his wife, who would have been delighted
to have had this further tribute to her husband's worth
to flaunt before the eyes of the unappreciative brother
at Chicksands ! But the omission only added one more
item to the long list of the disappointments of her life.

A present of ;^500 from Sir John at this moment,
with an injunction to ''make the front of the house
uniform," kept Sir William occupied, and when his
family returned it was to find their "nest as pleasant
and commodious " as the gift could make it ; and,
"since his Majesty had thought fit to change the
course of his counsels in which he (Sir William)
was so long and so sincerely engaged," Temple de-
scribed himself as "wholly sunk in his garden and the
quiet of a private life " — one of the great amusements
of which was writing treatises and planning his

W. Wissing pinxit

Lady Temple, wife of Sir John Temple of Sheen

AT THE HAGUE 133

" observations " upon the United Provinces. There is
a copy of this voluminous pamphlet at Spixworth, in
the handwriting of his nephew, John Temple, who
eventually succeeded to his possessions.

All this time there is no mention of Lady Giffard,
but she was certainly in England. Temple's old
enemy, Sir George Downing, was sent back to the
Hague in his place, and he took the ambassador's
house and furniture off his hands, but so unpopular
was he, and such a commotion did his presence excite
at the Hague, that he was soon frightened away. And
Sir William had the satisfaction, which we may be
sure he was not too human not to feel, of seeing his
ill-wisher sent to the Tower for coming back without
leave !

At last a yacht was sent for Lady Temple and her
children by Charles, who thought he saw a brilliant
opportunity of provoking a fresh quarrel with the
Dutch at the command of his taskmaster the French
king, and the captain sailed with orders to fire into
the first ships of the Dutch fleet he should meet with,
unless they struck their flag to the Englishman.

He saw nothing of the fleet going out, but coming
back he fell in with it, and without warning or cere-
mony he obediently fired into the nearest ship ! His
action was amusingly misconstrued by the Dutch
admiral. Van Ghent, who imagined the yacht must
be in distress, and gallantly came on board to offer
his services, with a ** handsome compliment" to the
English Ambassadress. He had had no orders on
this point himself, he explained, when he had re-
covered from his astonishment at learning the true
reason of the shots ; and protested that he could not

134 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

believe that he was to strike to the king's pleasure-
boat. The perplexed captain appealed to Lady
Temple, but she, having no mind to be made a cat's-
paw of, told him that " he knew his own orders best
and what he was to do on them," and left him to act
as he thought fit without any regard for her and her
children.

Eventually both English and Dutch commanders
proceeded on their way without further amenities, and
Lady Temple was landed safely in England, where
she was much commended for her spirited action in
the matter, for which she had to account to the judge
of the Admiralty ; but poor Captain Crow " went to
the Tower for it."

When Sir William next attended the king's lev^e
the king spoke admiringly to him of his wife's " carriage
at sea," and said that " she had shown more courage
than the captain " (who was evidently not intended to
return without having established a distinct casus
belli), and then fell to railing against the Dutch.
Temple replied that as matters went, it must be
confessed there was some merit in his family, ''since
I have made the alliance with Holland, and my wife
is like to have the honour of makinor the war." The
king smiled at the "truth that was spoken in jest,"
as also did Temple, who ** found this the only way to
lure the discourse into good humour."

** And thus," wrote the disappointed Minister some
years later, alluding to the collapse of his labours,
** ended in smoke an adventure which for more than
three years made such a noise in the world, restored
and preserved so long the general peace, and left his
Majesty the arbitrage of affairs."

AT THE HAGUE 135

Soon after this Sir William was offered, through
Arlington, an embassy to Spain. The offer was
strangely worded. The king, he was told, " took so
kindly his willingness to go over to Holland " and his
** easiness " when that commission failed, as well as
his success with the Spanish ambassador, that not
knowing anything better to give him he was resolved
to send an ** Ambassador-extraordinary to Spain, and
for that purpose would recall Sir W. Goldolphin ; " but
although this had formerly been an ambition of his.
Temple at the eleventh hour declined it.

The reason of this refusal puzzled his friends and
made a great deal of talk in court and diplomatic
circles. The generally accepted idea was that it was
due to the violent opposition of his father, though
it is more probable that he was at the mercy of the
vacillations of Charles, who found him at the last too
useful to be spared. Arlington thought it was because
he confidently expected that the interest of Lord
Danby would procure him the post of Secretary of
State, which he (Arlington) was about to vacate for
that of Lord Chamberlain ; while Temple perhaps
suspected Arlington of wanting to get him out of
the way, and did not intend to play into his hands.
Opinions were divided in his own house. Lady
Temple inclined towards it, and Lady Giffard was
against it, ** though she is the best Spaniard." That
the wishes of the sister were allowed to prevail over
those of the wife, shows plainly enough that Sir
William had no special desire for it at that moment,
or that he was not his own master, for many pre-
parations had already been made, and they were
thought to be prac|;ically on the eve of departure.

136 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

Two of his friends, Henry Sidney and Ralph
Montague, were now most anxious to get him into the
Ministry, and offered to lend him the ;^6ooo Arlington
was to receive for vacating his post, but Sir John was
much set against this as against appointment of the
Spanish embassy, and Sir William himself preferred
employment abroad ; besides, he ** ever detested the
custom grown among them of selling of places, and much
more so those of so much importance to the Crown."

In May 1674 he was once more appointed ambas-
sador to the Hague, with the stipulation — not without
much discussion — that the emoluments were to be
made equal to other ambassadors of the Crown.

So the three years' respite were over, and the
" play " was to begin all over again. Part of his
"leave'* he had spent in Ireland with his father, and
now it was Lady Giffard who went back with him to
Holland, Lady Temple taking "Jack," now almost a
man, to introduce him to his grandfather.

" I resolve to take my whole family over," he wrote
to Sir John, *' but my wife and son shall first make
you a visit, since you will not think of coming over ;
it is their turn now, and my sister and I will go first
into Holland, though we should both be glad to wait
on you again if it could have been allowed us, but my
wife will not consent to my going without her or my
sister, and she has a great mind to carry over her son
to you herself; after having been so long in France
and at an age when commonly the great changes are
made, which you will judge of when you see him."

The father's pride spoke in that last sentence!
Yet he was a stern parent too, as many proud fathers
are.

AT THE HAGUE 137

In vain, scheming Ministers, ambitious relations,
and affectionate friends plotted, and planned, and per-
suaded Temple to accept anything, and everything,
rather than return to Holland. Destiny was too
strong for them ; and if his return was based on a
personal inclination, one is at a loss to see what it
was that drew him back for the third time to the
Hague, after the dastardly murder of the Grand
Pensionary, whom he had liked and respected so
much, and the breaking of all his treaties.

He did not care greatly for the Hollanders either ;
their slowness and phlegm irritated him. No Dutch
man or woman, he said, could fall in love, and they
were neither handsome, nor witty, nor sociable. Per-
haps it was the young Prince of Orange, in whose
career he was already interested, that drew him, but
if so, disappointment was again to dog the way. For
William, who had developed irrepressible warlike
proclivities, was now out with the army in Flanders ;
and Mr. Courtenay suggests — very plausibly, I
think — that the prince was alarmed at the idea of
marriage, and suspected Temple of coming charged
with some proposal of that nature (on the subject of
which there had already been some informal corre-
spondence with the ambassador) which would have
put a spoke in the wheel of martial glory which
Fortune was now turning so fast for him. It was not
long, however, before Temple gained his confidence
and smoothed the way for his ultimate marriage with
Princess Mary of York.

In truth, he had been given his cue by the
Duke of York before leaving England, in veiled lan-
guage which was perfectly well understood by the

s

138 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

diplomatist but which preserved the dignity of the
young princess.

After a long and confidential conversation on the
subject, the duke had bid him assure his Highness
that *' if there was anything in which he might use
his service, he might be sure of it ; " and to Temple's
respectfully guarded answer, " Pray, sir, is there
nothing you except ? and you do not know how far
a young Prince's desire may go," James answered
with a smile, " Well, well, you may tell him what
I bid you."

" At least," replied the other with apparent care-
lessness, '' I will tell him you smiled when I told
you so, which I am sure is a great deal better than
if you had frowned."

The following year found the Prince of Orange
resting awhile on the laurels Seneff had brought him,
and spending his time between his grandmother's
palace in the woods and the English embassy at the
Hague. About that time Lord Ossory came over
with a suggestion of marriage from the king, but the
lust of battle was still on the young prince, and he
evaded the question with unbecoming coldness ; yet
before rejoining the army he renewed the subject of
his own accord with Temple, and to use his own
words, "not as the King's Ambassador, but as a
friend." He inquired anxiously about the ** person
and dispositions" of the princess, explaining with
boyish bashfulness that he would not have it ''thought
in the world" that he cared about such trifles as
beauty or character, but that in reality he did very
much ; that he certainly would not marry a lady of
the type of the wives of his uncle's court ; and feeling

AT THE HAGUE 139

in himself that he might not make a very easy hus-
band, much would depend on her own character and
disposition.

Lady Temple and Lady Giffard, who had seen
a good deal of the Princess Mary, no doubt at
Richmond, reassured him on these points, and Lady
Temple went over to England with letters to the king
and duke, both from the prince and the ambassador,
asking permission for him to visit England in the
character of a suitor, after the campaign.

The Princess Mary's father and uncle had, how-
ever, very properly stood on their dignity, and were
not disposed to throw the beautiful girl into the arms
of a man who had shown so little desire for that honour
such a short time ago, and all the answer he received
was that they would take time to consider it.

To her cousin (Lord Danby) alone was Lady
Temple permitted to impart the momentous secret
of this project. To a man of William's character it
wanted but a taste of opposition to whet his ardour,
and he now became as anxious to marry his cousin as
he had before been to escape the bonds.

The ultimate success of his suit, and the hasty
wedding in the king's apartments at Whitehall with
his unwilling and tearful bride, is another story alto-
gether ; but the annoyance and jealousy of Arlington
at the making of the alliance without his knowledge
by the Temples and Danby more immediately con-
cerns these letters. It is easy to understand the feeling
of Sir William's former patron at this juncture, but the
unworthy treatment that he had more than once meted
out to his friend exonerates the latter from any charge
of ingratitude, even if he could honourably have

140 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

confided in him. But the bitterness engendered, by
the withholding of a confidence that Arlington might
reasonably have imagined his due, strained the cord
of friendship to breaking-point, and the estrangement
between the two men became permanent.

Shortly before this, in the year 1674, the quiet of
the Hague was invaded by a pleasure party from
England headed by Lord Arlington, who came in
a private capacity, but with authority and mysterious
instructions from Charles. The cooling of the former
affectionate relations between the two Ministers must
have somewhat taken the edge off their enjoyment ;
but such finished courtiers and men of the world as
both Arlington and Temple were able to keep up an
appearance of cordiality for a time at least, and mix
amicably in the agreeable society such a party must
have formed.

Arlington was accompanied by his wife, and her
sister Mademoiselle Baverwort, and her brother
Monsieur Odycke, as well as Lord Ossory (who had
married another of old Prince Maurice of Orange's
natural daughters), Lady Temple's cousin, young
Lord Latimer, Dr. Durel, and Sir Gabriel Silvious,
an intimate of the prince's court. After a stay of six
weeks, and a gay round of dinners, receptions, and
other entertainments, they took their leave, Arlington
having failed in the principal part of his mission,
which was to incline the pugnacious princeling to-
wards peace.

Very soon afterwards, in May 1675, Temple was
appointed ambassador to Nimeguen, but not before
he had been summoned to London to receive some
of Charles's bewildering confidences that were ** so

AT THE HAGUE 141

private that they could not be well written to him.*"
The whole family then removed to this Flemish
town. The change from the damp atmosphere of
the Hague was a pleasant one, though, as Temple
wrote to his father, there " would be necessarily an
increase of trouble and expense as well as honour ; "
which is easily understood when one learns that he
fixed upon a house for which, ** with stables and out-
houses, I am like to pay ;^iooo a year, which is but
a part of those exactions likely to be practised there
on this occasion, and which cannot be remedied by
this State, where the magistrates of each town have
a jurisdiction uncontrollable by the States themselves,
either general or provincial, and are like themselves
to give no remedy in this affair which they are all
concerned in."

Very little business was done all this year, and
Temple found his office as "ambassador-mediator"
no sinecure, but managed to avoid unnecessary fric-
tion during the waiting-time, which would have been
tedious enough but for the pleasant reunions and
soirees, where there were ladies, and the evenings
spent in dancing or play and *' careless and easy
suppers and collations ; " and thus by this pleasant
intercourse, it was observed, "the mediation was
always active."

If she had desired to play the part of ** Sempronia,"
Lady Giffard had now her opportunity. The French
ambassador was intensely anxious to see the war at
an end, and M. Colbert made it known to the King
of France that she had such an ascendancy over her
brother that if tactfully approached she might be of
the greatest use in the negotiations. Louis, who had

142 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

great faith in the weight of feminine influence, was
glad to try and use her friendship with the Colberts
for his own advantage, and authorised him to make
great promises of royal approval and gratitude should
she accept the situation. It is curious, though charac-
teristic of Lady Giffard, that there is no hint of this
compliment to herself in her MS., and it is only from
a letter of Colbert's in d'Estrade's ** Memoirs" that
we hear of it. That she did not ardently desire a
peace is unthinkable, but that even her influence
could turn Temple from his determination that when-
ever it came it should be a " good peace " and not
another attempt to gather ** unripe fruit" is equally
unthinkable ; that she should dream of taking rewards
for attempting to persuade him to act against his
principles or without his full knowledge and approval
is even more unthinkable ; and that the offer was
declined with courtesy and determination we may be
assured.

In 1677 young Temple (Jack) came out with letters
to his father from Lord Danby, offering him the post
of Secretary of State ; but the offer was made in the
obnoxious way that always raised Sir William's ire.
Sir John Coventry, who held the post at the moment,
was willing, he said, to resign on the payment of ;^ 1000.
This offer was accompanied by a letter of recall, and a
royal yacht was sent to bring him back to England.

With the excuse that his father held all the estates
of the family, and that he himself could not raise even
half the sum, he got out of it ; and pleading ill-health,
retired for a short time to Sheen, having concluded one
more successful treaty obliging the French to evacuate
all the Spanish towns in the Netherlands.

AT THE HAGUE 143

The year 1678 saw him back at the Hague with
his family, living in excellent style, having ** a hundred
pounds a week and all the plate of his embassy ; " and
a few months later the fall of Danby brought him to
England, " deep in the King's councils," and once more
settled in his ** commodious nest."

By this time Coventry had decided definitely to
vacate his post, and Sir William, whose fate seemed
to hustle him from pillar to post, was not long left
in peace ; for the king's instinct told him when he
possessed a loyal, single-minded servant, and he had
no mind to let him slip through his fingers for lack
of employment.

PART VI

1679. Charles II
A CHRONICLE OF FAMILY EVENTS

LORD LINCOLN'S LETTERS

" If we could lay aside two things : first, our own imagination, which
makes us think things necessary which are not ; and secondly, our defer-
ence to the opinion of the world, which makes us incapable of being
happy unless we are thought so, the majority of mankind would be much
happier than they are at present." — Dr. Edward Young.

It has always been impossible to follow the thread

of Lady Giffard's life without pursuing that of her

brother, so inextricably was it interwoven with his.

And as time went on the strands suffered no loosing ;

the death of their father, Sir John, in 1679, knit them

more closely than ever. The periodical visits to

Ireland were perforce discontinued, and the whole

family drew together at Sheen. The younger Sir

John, who had been Attorney-General in Ireland for

over twenty years, settled with his large family at

Temple Grove, and the other brother, Henry, was

close by in his rooms at the Temple in London.

It was now fourteen years since that message from

Whitehall had summoned Temple at dawn to receive

his first orders in the king's service, and he had done

much in the time, and received very little ; but even

now he was not to be left to the repose he coveted.

Factions in Parliament were running high ; the Duke

144

A CHRONICLE OF FAMILY EVENTS 145

of York was in Flanders, and Charles so driven and
harassed, without any really strong man to lean on,
that he pressed Sir William to reconsider his decision
and become Secretary of State, saying, with a humility
that would have melted most men, ''that he had no
one to consult with when he wanted the best advice."
Temple refused the appointment, but advised his
Majesty to choose a reliable council to consult and
advise with. Charles consented, and it was agreed
that Sir William alone should help him to choose.
On his principle of never letting the grass grow under
his feet. Temple urged on this dilatory king, and in
four days the old council was dissolved and the new
one established, of which he was one. The king's
illness during the summer of this year (1680) created
fresh changes ; and the sudden return of the Duke of
York, who had been sent out of the kingdom and had
been secretly recalled by the Lords Essex and Halifax
without Temple's knowledge, added to the unfriendly
way in which they treated him on the occasion, not
only by keeping him out of the plot, and thereby
misrepresenting him to the Duke, so hurt and dis-
gusted Temple that he once more took refuge at
Sheen.

The king recovered as speedily as he fell ill, and
the Duke was sent off to Scotland to be out of the
way while the bill for excluding him and his heirs
from the succession was brought in. Temple declared
warmly against it, saying *' his endeavour should ever
be to unite the Royal family, and he would never
enter into any counsel to divide them ; " and true to
his word, the last thing he ever did in the House
of Commons was to carry the king's answer to their

T

146 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

address — an unqualified assertion that his Majesty
would never consent to the exclusion of the Duke.
It was perhaps on occasions of this kind that Sir
William Temple regretted he had not allowed
his friends to ask for a peerage for him, which he
would have undoubtedly received at the time of the
Triple Alliance ; his rank would then have spared him
the small mortifications his proud and sensitive nature
occasionally suffered. There were times when his
position was not quite defined, and he was asked
to undertake tasks that other men had refused ; and
had he been in the position his services warranted
(and that but for himself he would have been), this
would not have been possible.

Secretary Jenkins had been charged the night
before at the council with the delivery of this
message, but on second thoughts he was judged
too unacceptable to the House to carry it. The
king would have had either Sir Robert Carr or Mr.
Godolphin (Sidney, afterwards Lord) take it, but they
both excused themselves, knowing it would not be
received with pleasure. Charles in his dilemma again
appealed to Sir William, who expressed surprise that
what was agreed upon over-night should be altered
in his chamber, but declared himself very willing to
obey him, and this rather because others had excused
themselves, and to show his Majesty that he ** intended
to play no popular games." So after a few respectful
reproaches for the king's capricious withdrawal of his
full confidences, and with a little burst of not un-
natural temper, he told his Majesty that *'he had not
so good a stomach for business as to consent only
to swallowing what other people had chewed," and

A CHRONICLE OF FAMILY EVENTS 147

that his chief object in accepting this unpopular task
was that he entirely approved of the fnessage itself and
that was his principal inducement in accepting it.

This answer was, he afterwards used to say, the
only thing he could imagine that the king ever could
take ill of him.

Soon after this Charles, in illustration of Rochester's
epigram that he ** never said a foolish thing and never
did a wise one," dissolved parliament, contrary to his
promise, without consulting his Privy Councillors, and
then it was that Temple rose and made one of the
boldest speeches ever hitherto heard in the House.

In entirely proper and respectful terms he called
in question the king's right (having made his coun-
cillors) to act without them, because it implied a con-
tradiction, *'What use were councillors who did not
counsel?" He knew of no precedent for such a
course ; he doubted if it had ever been practised by
his Majesty's predecessors, **nor was so now by any
prince in Christendom." He urged the importance
of king and parliament agreeing ; he humbly advised
that the king should use his council, by permitting
them freedom of speech at their sittings and hearing
what they had to say, after which he might *' resolve
as he pleased," and that if at any time he was dis-
pleased or discontented with them he might dissolve
them, but not subject them to the farce of being mere .
dummies.

This bold and manly speech could only have been
made by a man who had the welfare of the king and
his country deeply at heart, and sought no advance-
ment for himself, and is, I think, the most satisfactory
proof that Sir William's desire to withdraw from public

T48 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

life was real and not affected, as one has been tempted
to suspect. By it he gave offence to those of his friends
who expected personal advantage from the king's un-
constitutional proceeding ; and being thoroughly out of
touch with the tortuous ways of Charles and his mini-
sters, he sent him a message by his son, *' that he would
pass his life as good a subject as any in his kingdom,
but would never again meddle in public affairs." The
king assured him that he was not in the least offended ;
but his actions belied his words, for without giving him
any intimation of his intention, he with characteristic
impulsiveness removed him from the council that he
himself had formed only a short time before ; and but
for the kindness of old Lady Northumberland — who
came over the water from Sion in the early hours of
the next morning, and asking to see Sir William
privately in his closet, told him his name had been
struck off over-night — he might not have heard of it
before the council met again. This old lady did not
bear such a very high character, and has been reviled
in history, not unjustly, for marrying her little grand-
daughter Lady Elizabeth Percy to the dissipated
Thomas Thynne of Longleate ; but in this case she
certainly did the kind thing, and her friendly action
prevented his hearing of it in a more unpleasant way.

After this Sir William had no more compunction
in enjoying the rest that his inclinations and growing
ill-health demanded, and congratulated himself with
joy that at last he was out of the storm.

But no man is master of his fate, and it is often
when one thinks one has gained the summit of one's
desire that the blow falls. A heavy one was already
hanging over the heads of the happy family at Sheen,

Neischer pinxii

Lady Giffard and Diana Temple

A CHRONICLE OF FAMILY EVENTS 149

and after three short years it fell. In this year (1684)
two important family events happened : one a heart-
breaking sorrow, the other presumedly a pleasant
occasion — at all events one of surpassing interest to
his parents — Diana died, and John Temple married.

Clever, merry little Nan ! the writer of the letter
her father always treasured, the last of the only two
girls there had been among his seven children, was
carried away when she was scarcely more than a child.

Nan died of that inexorable ravager, the smallpox,
and her little body was the first to be laid in the
gloomy corner of Westminster Abbey, whither her
mother was the next to follow her.

The little note has been printed before, in Judge
Parry's book, but it will bear repeating here.

" Sir, — I defered writing to you till I could tell you
that I had received all my fine things, which I have just
now done, but I thought never to have done giving you
thanks for them. They have made me so very happy in
my closet, and everybody that comes does admire them
above all things, but yett not soe much as I think they
deserve, and now if Papa was heare I should think myself
a perfect Pope, though I hope I should not be burnt as
there was one at Nell Quin's doore the 8th of November,
who was sat in a greate cheare with a red nose half a yard
long with some hundreds of boys throwing squibs at it.

Monsieur Gore and I agree mighty well, and he makes
me believe I shall come to something at last, that is if he
stays which I don't doubt but what he will because all the
faire ladys will petition for him.

We are rid of the workmen now and our howse is
ready to entertain you when you please and you will meet
with nobody more glad to see you than — Your most
obedient and dutiful daughter, D. Temple.

I50 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

Monsieur Gore was probably her father's secretary,
who tutored her as his successor Jonathan Swift later
tutored little ** Hetty" Johnson. The house which the
workmen had just vacated was perhaps the new one
Sir William had lately bought and was having done
up " against his son came home."

Shortly before Diana's death Jack Temple married
a French heiress, the daughter of M. Rambouillet du
Plessis, a French Protestant gentleman of the family
of Cardinal Richelieu, and brought her to live with
his parents at Sheen.

Whether the match was pleasing to them or not we
do not know, but that there were difficulties to over-
come with the lady's relatives seems evident, as King
Charles expressed with his own hand his readiness to
use his best offices with the King of France to make
things as easy for young Temple as he could.

Like his father and his uncle Henry, Jack was in
diplomacy, but though employed in various minor but
delicate transactions he never seems to have made his
mark, and was morbidly conscientious. His father
undoubtedly took life too seriously for his times, but
he was strong and determined. He knew his own
limitations, and never courted failure by attempting
what he knew he could not perform. His natural
prudence held him back sometimes from the highest
achievements, and he knew when to refuse an im-
possible task. His son did not — and died of it.

"The best and quietest little boy that ever was"
found the world too strong for him.

At that time he was a very *' promising young
gentleman" with great natural abilities and personal
accomplishments, and ** Mademoiselle Marie du

A CHRONICLE OF FAMILY EVENTS 151

Plessis," says the author of a Biographia Britannica
published in 1763, "was a young lady very eminent
for her rare accomplishments of body and mind, and
more since for her charity and piety." Her piety,
I imagine, was the growth of later years, and of a very
Protestant type. There are long prayers and dreary
meditations in both French and English among the
few relics she has left behind her ; they are written
in a tiny hand and with much economy of paper,
and conjure up visions of grim Geneva gowns and
denunciations and fearsome threats of everlasting-
doom ; and her religion, exaggerated as it may well
have been with the effects of recent Huguenot per-
secution, and loaded with the stern tenets of Calvinism,
lacked the happy optimism of her husband's mother,
and the easy philosophy of Sir William Temple and
Lady Giffard.

Her wealth must have been very considerable,
and the pity was that she had no son to inherit it.
After Jack's death a document, still in existence, was
drawn up between her and her mother, Mme. le Coq
du Plessis, and Sir William Temple, termed the
"Tripartite," and contains a plan for distribution of
her wealth, the biens in France being left back to
her French relations, the De Rohans, and the rest of
her wealth to her two daughters.

Somewhere, hidden among the circumlocutory and
cryptic phraseology of the law, are a few facts that
are interesting. We learn that Mary Temple had a
house in Paris in the Rue de Mailo, and that Sir
William Temple made over to her for her life the
house in London that he had once bought " entirely
for the satisfaction of his wife," and which they, by

152 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

mutual consent, made a present of to their son, at
whose death it had reverted to Sir William. This
house stood close to Marlborough House in Pall
Mall. In a memorandum of her property is a note
to the effect that the rent had to be lowered as *' the
value of the house is decreased owing to the Duchess
of Marlborough having a house at the bottom of the
garden." The reason of the objection is not stated,
but the ancient Sarah entertained ** a very lively
company " in her house in London. Was it the noise
of the music or dancing, and quarrelling with cards,
that lessened the value of Mary Temple's town-house,
I wonder ? Or was it merely that it blocked the view
of St. James's Park ?

It would be interesting to know how the Temple-
Rambouillet marriage, that took the two greatest
monarchs in the world to accomplish, turned out.
King Charles and Louis Quatorze concerned them-
selves in the affairs of this young couple, who probably
thought life was to be all roses, yet one of them at
least found it — or thought he did — ** a bed of thorns."

The gay doings, and inevitable coming and going
to and from London occasioned by the presence of
the young married couple in the house, did not suit
Sir William's broken health and spirits, and he once
more turned his thoughts to buying a property on
which to establish his branch of the family, and to
which he might retire and leave the house at Sheen
to his son ; for he was not to be turned from his
decision never again to enter into affairs of State, even
at the request of King James, who often summoned
him to Richmond for private conference.

Many years before, he had much wished to buy

A CHRONICLE OF FAMILY EVENTS 153

a small property in Northamptonshire, with a house
called ** Temple Hall " on it, but his father had dis-
suaded him on account of its smallness and incon-
venient distance from London, and now with a curious
coincidence of nomenclature he had the opportunity
of purchasing Moor Park in Surrey.

It had been at Moor Park in Hertfordshire, the
beautiful seat of Sir John Franklyn, Lady Temple's
cousin, that he and his wife had passed the first
few months of their married life. Of this place Sir
William had always retained the most tender and
romantic remembrance. He had modelled his ofarden
at Sheen as much as possible on the gardens there ;
and possessing as he did almost a cat-like attach-
ment to certain houses and places, the very name of
Moor Park was probably an inducement towards the
purchase.

Events had been passing rapidly since little Nan
had died, and a greater person than she had been
called to his account. The curtain had dropped for
ever on the garish scene, and the giddy crowd had
melted away from Whitehall, when the inseparable
trio journeyed to their new home on the borders of
Surrey and Hampshire, passing through Windsor so
that Sir William might pay his homage to the new
king. Gay, reckless Charles was dead, and the
serious, dignified, tragic figure of his brother James
sat in his place.

In after years Temple could never bring himself
to serve under William and Mary on account of the
affecting interview that day at Windsor, when to King
James's gentle reproaches to him for not entering into
his service he had promised ** always to live as a

u

154 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

good subject, but whatever happened never to return
to any public employment," and had begged his
Majesty never to give credit to whatever he might
hear to the contrary.

In the years that followed, watching the trend
of events from his exile, James perhaps appreciated
this sacrifice, and recalled his own remark on the
ex-ambassador's incorruptible integrity, that '* Sir
William's character was one always to be believed."

A packet of letters from John (Jack) Temple,
written in French to his wife, has lately come to
light. They are charmingly written, and abound with
pathetic expressions of love and devotion during his
enforced absence in Paris, where he was busy com-
passing the release from the Bastille of her Huguenot
relations, and dealing with singular patience with the
vagaries of a tiresome old Madame or Mademoiselle
du Plessis, who would not accept her freedom when
his strenuous efforts had put it within her reach.

It is difficult to determine what Jack Temple's
appointment really was; it is certain that he was
attached to our embassy in Paris, but exactly in what
capacity is uncertain. These letters could not have
been written earlier than 1688, and therefore not very
long before his death, and were therefore probably
the last his wife received from him. They show no
sign of the melancholy that must have attacked him
so soon afterwards, and testify to the delightful, event-
ful and varied life he must have led at the French
court. It is hard to see what could have made him
desire to end it.

He describes himself as hunting with the Due de
Vendome, wandering in the gardens of the Tuileries,

A CHRONICLE OF FAMILY EVENTS 155

and dreaming of the days when he strolled with his
bride in the Avenue du Conde ; attending the christen-
ing of the " trois enfants de France"; inspecting the
wonderful book Madame de Montespan was sending
to the King of Siam, illustrated with the portrait of
the *' Grand Monarque " and all his battles painted
in miniature, with an account of his conquests under
each ; executing commissions for great ladies in
England — a coat for Lady Sunderland (who, he is
glad to hear, *' caresses" his wife) and a toothpick
case for the beautiful Mrs. Middleton ; and " drawing
the curtains " round the great four-poster, and with a
letter from his ''petite " under his pillow, passing the
first hours of the night "dans une reverie la plus
douce du monde."

He coaxes his wife to visit his relations at Sheen
and to go to Moor Park and give him news of his
people. ** Allez y ma chere amie," he says, ''you will
love it when you walk in the garden by the little
stream where I can picture you, and you will gather
health when you return * mouillee comme une petite
canne ' from a walk in the heather," but judging from
the frequency with which the request is made, Madame
Marie prefers London to the quiet of the country, and
is hard to move from thence.

About this time Lady Giffard received a letter
written on an exceedingly unattractive - looking
reddish-brown paper from Edward Clinton, fifth
Lord Lincoln, and last of that line ; a harmless and
erratic nobleman whose eccentricities were the con-
stant theme and amusement of Londoners.

This wonderful sheet of paper must have come
from one of the India houses, generally kept by Dutch

156 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

women and much frequented by the smart people of
that date. Lady Vaughan, writing to Lord Russell
in 1677, says that she had spent some time "at a
Dutchman's at Paternoster Row, and at the three
Exchanges."

Queen Mary got severely reprimanded for going
to one of these warehouses, where tea, china, and other
Indian goods were sold ; and they soon became a
fashionable hunting-ground for gay young *' sparks,"
where, says Lady Russell's editor, **they met with
other motives than to * cheapen tea or buy a screen.' "
Gibber in one of his plays makes ** Lady Townley" take
a flying jaunt to see an India house, as one of the
most dashing incidents of a fine lady's life in London.

from his Lordship's House in London
at ye sign of the fair Lady with
black hair An. Do. 1776 Nov. 42.

Madam, — Your Ladyship will thinke me mad when I
did put my hand to this paper, but indeed it was because
I could not write sense enough to manifest my esteem
that I have resolved to write downright nonsense, the
contents of this epistle will bee to besech the Lady Giffard
to bee soe kinde to the sayd Lord Lincolne as to give him
now and then the possession of a letter from the sayd
Lady Giffard which will contribute mightily to the satis-
faction of the sayd L^ Lincolne, though indeed it will be
a trouble to the sayd Lady Giffard which Lady is en-
treated to weare her hair a I'egiptione it is the easiest way
of dressing may I say abundantly. Pray Madam doe not
bee astonished at this style of writting for it is a particular
paper from all other paper therefore the style ought to
bee different.

I will make an excuse for not writing sooner, and
such an excuse as never was made before, because I was

LORD LINCOLN'S LETTER 157

all this while a seeking out a paper to write on and going
to see a Dutch woman and she gave mee this paper which
is made in the dos finding such as the great Mogul him-
selfe uses to write to the great Con of Tartary and at
length sent some of it to — Your humble servant

LiNCOLNE.

Assuredly her ladyship might easily have " thought
him mad " had she not probably already known it ! but
none the less she must have been amused at the
effusion — sufficiently so indeed to have preserved it.

Lady Giffard was about eight-and-thirty when she
received this letter, and her hair was probably still
dark and luxuriant enough to warrant her crack-
brained admirer dubbing her the fair lady with
black hair, ** which locks he begs her to dress a
TEgyptienne," a fashion borrowed perhaps from the
stage.

It would be interesting to know if her ladyship
ever humoured his whim, and if the mode was be-
coming. One thing is however certain, that his lord-
ship intended a compliment to her abundant tresses.

In later life Lord Lincoln's eccentricities developed
into something rather remarkable, and the queen
(Mary) became extremely curious to see him. In
a letter to the king she records her first view of
him as she was making her way to the chapel at
Whitehall.

Whitehall,/«/j/ f^^ 1690.

Now shall I tell you that I have been satisfied with
the sight of my Lord Lincoln, which I have so often
wished for in vaine. I met him as I came from prayers
with a hundred people at least after him. I can't

158 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

represent to you my surprise at so unexpected an object
and so strange a one but what he said was as much so if
it were possible. He called my Lord President by name,
and all in general who are in trust, *^ Rogues," told me 1
must go back with him to Council to hear his complaint,
which I think was against Lord Torrington. He talked
so like a madman that I answered him as calmly as I
could, looking on him as such, and so with much ado got
from him.

Apparently the queen had reason to wish her
desire to make his acquaintance had not been grati-
fied, for a month later she writes that she had the
**vappeurs" on the evening of the 27th of July,
through having been worried by the mad Lord
Lincoln that morning, and again describes the inter-
view to the king.

"Lord Lincoln," she says, **was with me this
afternoon no less than an hour and a half, reforming
the fleet, correcting abuses, and not shy either of
naming persons. He talked so perfectly like a mad-
man as I never heard anything more in my life ; he
made me the most extravagantest compliments in the
world, but was by no means satisfied that I would
do nothing he desired me. He had an expression
that I have heard often within these few days, which
is, 'that I have the power in my hand and they
wonder I do not make use of it,' and * why should
I stay for your return ? ' and ' whether I should lose
so much time as to write you word or no, is doubted,
that is when they must stay till an answer comes.'"

That Lord Lincoln held opinions shared by men
of stronger mental calibre than himself is certain.
He was of those who thought King William too much

LORD LINCOLN'S LETTER 159

of an absentee, and too fond of spending his time at
Loo, and who would have gladly seen Mary assume
the sovereignty independently of her husband. In
the interview that produced the *'vappeurs" it is
obvious there was considerable method in his mad-
ness, and it was perhaps fortunate for William that
his queen was so open and loyal on the subject of
this ominous conversation, which she regarded, or
affected to regard, as the effusion of a disordered
brain, though she must have been perfectly well
aware of a large and very strong faction who desired
of all things to see her reign alone.

Two years later Lord Lincoln died at his house in
Bloomsbury Square. Marcissue Lutterell chronicles
the event thus: ** November 26th, 1692. Yesterday
died the Earle of Lincolne in his house at Blooms-
bury Square. Sir Francis Clinton of Lincolnshire
succeeds to his title and estates." ** November 29th.
Last night the Earle of Lincolne was privately in-
terred in Westminster Abbey. His body was two
yards wanting a quarter before he was put into his
coffin." Nature proverbially does not wrap her best
gifts in large packets ; but Lord Lincolne must have
been unusually diminutive, and evidently had all the
assurance and audacity that is sometimes given as a
natural protection to very small men.

PART VII

1685-1694. James II

MOOR PARK

" Since I have your last letter I have made no acknowledgment of
it : a retirement is in several respects like the night of our life, in the
obscurity and darkness and in the sleepiness and dosedness ; which I
mention to put you in mind that I am only in my posture of life apt to
be failing towards yoM^— Philip Sidney {Lord Lisle) to Sir William
Temple.

It was in 1685 that Sir William Temple purchased
the Moor Park estate, in the wildest and most secluded
part of Surrey, three miles from Aldershot and in the
parish of Farnham.

A couple of miles to the south the slumberous out-
line of the Hog's Back lies against the sky. Seven
miles to the north the Long Valley stretches westward,
and Laffan's Plain unrolls itself like a green carpet
between the softly swelling purple hills. The Park
is full of beautiful trees, and an unusual character is
given to it by the presence of some curious natural
caves in the steep incline of Crooksbury Hill, but
there is no view from the windows of the ** mourhous,"
at the back of which the ground rises abruptly to a
considerable height, shutting out the prospect very
effectually, and giving a certain air of melancholy to
the place.

Nowadays, close as it is to the greatest military

centre in England, Moor Park may be counted very

160

MOOR PARK i6i

much in the world, but in Lady Giffard's time it was
far away from it. Now when the wind is fair the
cheerful sound of r^veill^ and tattoo may awaken the
solitude, and the noises of a field-day must often pene-
trate there ; but in the days we are speaking of Alder-
shot was one great, almost untrodden moor, and no
sounds of martial music or mimic warfare disturbed
the quiet of the place.

The old '*Moor-Hous " was a red-brick Elizabethan
mansion of the moderate dimensions of the average
country squire's dwelling of the day. It is dwarfed
now by the larger and newer part, built on to it late
in the eighteenth century by Basil and John Bacon,
the children of Sir William's granddaughter Dorothy,
who inherited it, and the walls of the present fine
reception-room and handsome entrance-hall never re-
echoed to the voices of the people who wrote or re-
ceived the letters from this place, or even to those of
Basil who began to build them and John who practically
finished them, for both died before their completion.

So in the older parts of the house were massed
the treasures collected by Sir William — pictures and
statues, and beautiful cabinets filled with china, and
books galore. There were Vandykes, Titians, and
Lelys, Van der Moulens, Holbeins, Jansens, Mom-
perts, and Le Bruns. Netscher painted Sir William
Temple, Lady Temple, Jack, Sir John (senior), and
(on the same canvas) Lady Giffard and Diana. Lely
painted both Sir Johns (father and son), also Sir
William Temple and Lady Giffard. Lady Temple
had been painted by him in her girlhood, and the
picture is in her old home at Chicksands.

Lely's portrait of Lady Giffard, curiously enough,

X

i62 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

once fell into the hands of Dean Swift, who was willing
enough to sell it, or rather to give it to John Temple,
fourteen years after her death, on condition that he
did something for poor Martha Dingley, who was quite
** sunk in years and unwieldiness."

*'Your aunt's picture is," he wrote, ** in Sir Peter
Lely's best manner, and the drapery all in the same
hand. I shall think myself very well paid for it if you
will be so good as to order some marks of your favour
to Mrs. Dingley. I do not mean a pension, but a small
sum to put her out of debt."

John Temple, who spent most of his fortune in
charity, did not, we may feel sure, neglect this duty ;
the puzzle is, how did Swift ever become possessed of
Lady Giffard's portrait? Surely she never gave it
to him! The only supposition possible is that it
belonged to Stella, her sometime waiting-maid.

The soil in Sir William's garden is light and of
a kind beloved of conifers, which still flourish in great
luxuriance on and around the ** island" formed by the
meanderings of the river Wey (little more than a rivu-
let at this point), and an artificial canal which waters
the lower garden. Specially beautiful is the growth
of the somewhat rare Ketone Osprian and the Deo-
dara, while, towering grim and gaunt above their
neighbours, are some ancient Douglassi, which are
reputed to have been planted by him.

Under the south wall of the kitchen garden is the
bowling-green, where tradition says King William
played at bowls with the master of the house.

The pines shed their fragrant needles on the green
sward, and the little river makes eternal water-music
as it flows away into the meadows beyond. Smooth-

MOOR PARK 163

shaven lawns and a shallow flight of stone steps lead
up from the lower garden to the terrace near the house.

The present owner of Moor Park has done much
to beautify the garden, and ** Carmine Pillars," and
"jCrimson Ramblers," and ''Lady Gay" romp over
pergolas and parapets to-day, while on the old walls
and in the new glass houses hang such grapes and
peaches and pears as would have rejoiced Sir William's
heart.

Gardening was the fashion then as now, and much
beautiful prose and verse had been written in praise of
it, **long before Sir William penned his garden essay."
Bacon and Spenser had made that their task. The
influence of the Baconic scheme is plainly traceable in
the garden of Moor Park, Herts, which is described
by Temple, and we may easily believe that all the
flowers of the " Shepheards' Calendar " bloomed in
turn in the borders of this *' Moor-hous pleasaunce" —

" The Pincke and the purple Cullambine, with Gelliflowres,
The Coronations, and Sops-in-wine, worne of Paramoures,"

and the low-lying meadows in springtime must have
been studded with the cowslips and kingcups and
** loved lillies," and ** the pre tie Pawnee, and the Chevi-
saunce," and all the rest of the flowery host.

** The flowers are for the ladies," Sir William said,
and he occupied himself chiefly with the fruits and
vegetables and the planting of shrubs and trees.

There were other plants in Sir William's garden
besides fruit and flowers — he was an ardent herbalist,
and doctored himself and others with his homeopathic
concoctions. Sage, rue, saffron, alehoof (or ground
ivy), garlic, and elder, he ''esteemed of the greatest

i64 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

value to health." A draught of spring water with a
handful of sage boiled in it he recommended for a
consumptive cough, and he opined, if used instead
of tea it would be very beneficial, though perhaps
not so "entertaining to the taste."

The spirit of saffron was the "noblest and most
innocent of medicines," and the greatest cheerer of
hearts and spirits. He had known a man brought
out of the ** very agonies of death by it."

Ground ivy was admirable in "frenzies," "sove-
reign " for the eyes, and was, he said, the universal
drink of the English nation before hops came into
the country.

" Garlic or onions made into a soup after a day of
debauche" was so efficacious as to be called " Soupe
a L'Yvroigne."

Elder, he recommended for the gout or dropsy, and
other analogous complaints, but the ashes of broom
taken in white wine he thinks was of even more virtue.

One of Sir William's remedies does not appeal
strongly to our present-day ideas — it is powdered
centipedes made up into little balls with fresh butter.
** I never knew it fail of curing any sore throat ;
it must lie at the root of the tongue and melt down
at leisure upon going to bed."

For the ordinary malady of indigestion, " to which
the whole family were subject," he prescribed the more
appetising dish of common cherries (minus their skins
and stones), white figs, soft peaches, or grapes and
apples, after meals ; this he judged preferable to the
" powder of crabs' eyes and claws, and burnt egg-
shells generally prescribed," and possibly his patients
did too!

MOOR PARK 165

He found a leaf of tobacco put into the nostrils
for an hour every morning a specific medicine for a
cold ; the same remedy old Prince Maurice of Nassau
recommended him for preserving his eyesight, and
was found most efficacious.

Sir William rather grudgingly admits that quinine,
which he calls the "Jesuit's powder," may be good in
fevers, and remembers **its entrance upon our stage"
(when Lady Sunderland's ague was cured by it, per-
haps) with some disadvantage, having the repute of
** leaving no cures without danger of worse returns."

For the relief of the agonising fits of the gout he
was subject to, he went further afield than his own
garden, and used the Indian cure of ** Moxa," first
introduced to him at Nimeguen, where he made his
great treaty. He had been taken ill on the journey
there, and had the **sullenness'' not to try one of the
hundred and one remedies which were offered him,
until a friend, M. Zulichen, came to see him, and told
him of ** Moxa." The novelty of the cure, and the fact
that the gentleman who proposed it had a reputation
for ** never coming into company without saying some-
thing new,'* decided him to try it, with so much success
that he always flew to it in future bouts of pain.

*' Moxa" was a kind of moss that grew in the East
Indies, and the remedy was simple and easy to apply
if a trifle barbarous.

** You take a small quantity of it," explained
M. Zulichen, "and form it into a figure broad at the
bottom as a twopence, and pointed at top : to set the
bottom exactly on the place where the violence of the
pain was fixed, then, with a small perfumed match,
to give fire to the top of the moss, which, burning

i66 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

down by degrees, came at length to the skin and
burnt it till the moss was consumed to ashes, and
the skin is hard and black."

One little conflagration generally effected a cure,
but if not, ** it might be repeated several times ! "
Sir William tried it, and soon ** raved upon it," and
recommended it strongly to all his fellow-sufferers for
the rest of his life, preferring it to another alternative
offered him of the whipping of the afllicted part with
nettles.

Built against the western wall of the kitchen
garden is a greenhouse that was once the far-famed
orangery, in the centre of which is a small oblong
tank, where probably was once a fountain ; across the
shallow water of this little tank, two fabulous dogs or
talbots, carved in stone, snarl at each other. (There
are brass talbots' heads, too, for door handles at
Sheen, for the talbot was the Temple crest.)

In this orangery, defaced by weathers and hard
usage, two of Sir William's cherished antique heads
are still to be found — those of Marcus Antonius and
Theocritus ; both are mentioned in the list already
quoted. They must have been accidentally (or pos-
sibly on account of their battered condition purposely)
left behind when all the other things were removed.
Under the portico at the entrance is a third, less
damaged than the others — the head of Socrates.

There is more in this beautiful garden left to
speak of the men and women who walked in it long
ago than there is in the house, the front of which,
with its large and lofty rooms and high wide windows,
is very different to the old part, which, however, still
remains, most of it being now offices and servants'

MOOR PARK 167

quarters. The steward's room, where Swift had his
meals during the first year or two of his residence
there, is now the servants' hall — a long, low, panelled,
pleasant room it is — and the little parlour or study-
where probably Sir William sat is much the same
as it always was ; but none of the pictures or furni-
ture ever belonged to him, for the saddest fate that
could have befallen a great man was his. Though he
had had nine children, he left no one behind him to
carry on his name, and keep the treasures he gathered
together with so much taste and care.

Two thousand pounds is all he paid for the place
to which he was to become so passionately attached,
and for which he had left "that little corner of
Sheen," his love for which had been a subject for
King Charles's raillery.

This little memorandum shows the extra expenses
incurred during the first year of his residence at
Moor Park, and is interesting as showing the price
of land then. The present Park comprises a large
acreage, but a good deal of land has probably been
enclosed since then.

Extraordinarys layd out in the Yeare 1684 and 85.

To Mr. Wyre for house and lands at Pychley .
To Mr. Younger for his remainder and quit

rent of house at London
To Bridges for his ex®^^ upon his board
To Bro. H. to clear Kilmacknan leas
To the College upon renewing leases
For Stables and to Cueller
Laid out in both houses against my sons

coming over ....
Moorhous purchase and charges
A quietus upon my Bart* patent

5421 I

£

1750

s.

0

0360
0112

0
0

0100

0

0130
0336

0
0

0563
2000

0
0

0070

0

i68 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

For one year the Temples remained at Moor
Park, till the "surprising revolution" of 1688 brought
William of Orange to England ; and the place, lying
as it did in the way of both armies, became unsafe,
and they returned once more to Sheen. It was at
this time that Jack — as we must continue to call him
to distinguish him from the numerous Johns of the
family — pleaded unavailingly with his father to go
and meet the Prince of Orange, but Sir William
quixotically maintained that because he himself had
promised never to take office under any king but
James, his son was equally bound. Jack thought
differently, but dutifully obeyed his father to the letter,
and refused to accept from King William any post
of advantage while his father, **much broken with
trouble and uneasiness," withheld his sanction.

There were other causes of irritation, too, which
disturbed Sir William not a little, and entailed a law-
suit with his neighbour. Lord Brouncker, a contentious
and arrogant man, whom we have already seen in
conflict even "in the Queen's antechamber." The
petition to the court, in Sir William's handwriting,
with sundry alterations and erasions, is among his
papers, and relating as it does to the one of the walls
of Crowne Courte, the fall of which Dorothy Temple
witnessed, is not without a certain interest.

PETITION TO YE COURT.

That in 1660 the Ld. Bellasis bought a great parte of
Sheen from the Ld. Leycester and Walls were then either
left or new ones built by agreement between 'em to make
an absolute separation between them which were to be

MOOR PARK 169

maintained and repaired at the charge of Ld. Bellasis.
That the residue of Sheene remained to Ld. Leycester
within the enclosure of the crown courte and the few
houses secured by the gate of that Courte.

That upon the convenience and safety of that enclosure
Sir Wm. Temple bought two of thees houses from Ld.
Leycester in 1670 and 1675 and expended in the purchase
and improvement ^6000 and in the yeare 1683 he took
a third house within the enclosure with two small tene-
ments on each side the gate of the said Crown Courte
that in the same year Robt. Rossington by agreement
with Sir Wm. Temple took the remainder of Sheen from
Ld. Leycester which were two houses which he has since
let to his underservants.

That all this time, that is from 1660, the Crown Courte
has retained a way or passage common only to the houses
within the said enclosure, from which the parte of Sheen
purchased by Ld. Bellasis has ever remained wholly
separated and excluded, from the Crown Courte and
the houses. . . .

That he has threatened to make it a common way for
coaches and carrs and carriages and drays and that if Sir
William Temple should hinder it that he would build a
little house in the same place that is one against the
Mansion House of Sir William Temple and burn turfe
therein and stinke him out of his house and garden.

That about a month since upon a causeless distaste to
Sir Wm. Temple, Ld. Broncker entered into a combina-
tion with Mr. Rossington to do him what prejudice they
could and upon presence of articles between them, to that
purpose, the Ld. Br. about the 24th May broke down
part of the ancient Wall of the Crown Court, sett up great
gates and opened a way out of his grounds into the
Crown Court where no way had ever been.

So there was war to the knife between the erst-
while " kinde neighbours," and all sorts of ugly things,

Y

170 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

such as spite, malice, fury, and obstinacy, came troop-
ing through that fatal hole in the wall and poisoned
the sweet air of Crowne Courte. Worse than any
burnings of turf was this war of words and pitting of
wills against that unfortunate separation-wall.

The usual platitude that " there are faults on both
sides " applies here as in every other case, no doubt ;
but, starting on the knowledge that the complainant
was by nature a man of peace, and the defendant ready
to pick a quarrel on the smallest provocation, one has
not much doubt as to which party was the aggressor.
The facts of the case are, that Lord Brouncker at
one time, being on intimate terms with the ex-ambas-
sador and his family, begged permission to make a
little door in the wall to enable him to visit them
without going round by the palace. The plan did not
commend itself to Sir William, whose chief object in
settling in the Crowne Courte was the privacy and
safety of living within its precincts ; but not wishing to
be discourteous, and believing in the **good neighbour-
hood and kindness " of the Lord Brouncker, forbore
to oppose it, consented with diplomatic grace. For
several years all was serene — till one evening at a
dinner at the Duke of Ormond's, Sir William Temple,
finding it necessary to object to a speech of Lord
Brouncker's, he took offence. A quarrel ensued (which
unfortunately for us the complainant considered ** too
well known to repeat in Court, it being wholly foreign
to the matter "), and the little door in the wall became
no longer a desirable thing ; and Lord Brouncker,
anxious to annoy Temple and assert his own import-
ance, conceived the idea of making a thoroughfare of
the Crowne Courte. Sir William objected. Brouncker

MOOR PARK 171

threw down the wall and set up his gates. Temple
threatened the law and Brouncker the turf-burning
nuisance. The smell of this imaginary turf was to
Sir William like fire in the nostrils of a war-horse.
Brouncker in court protested he only said it in joke.
Sir William contemptuously ** confessed hee has not
witte enough to understand the humour of that dis-
course . . . and thought his Lordship does not seem
to be in jest in his answer to this Court when he
affirms that he may lawfully do it if he will because
turf is a legall fuell."

We do not know who won the case. Brouncker
was the richer man, and the scales of justice were
largely weighted with gold in those days ; but which-
ever way it went, it soon ceased to be of any con-
sequence to Sir William. The star of his good
fortune was setting, and the great wall feud must
have shrivelled into nothingness before the sorrow and
grief that were stalking his footsteps. The Angel of
Death was passing through the Courte ; neither walls
nor gates were of any avail. First one darling child
was carried off, and then the other took his own life.
Lady Temple had never been *' kinde to Sheen " — it
was perhaps become unbearable now. Quiet Moor
Park opened its arms to the broken-hearted parents ;
they passed into its peaceful haven and never returned
to the world ; and as far as the belligerents were con-
cerned, carts, carriages and drays rolled and lumbered
through the deserted Courte unrestrained. Brounckers
and Rossingtons could trouble them no longer — the
" little corner of Sheen " lay under a pall, and the place
knew the stricken family no more.

The great wall of partition was not the only barrier

172 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

to a perfect friendship between Lord Brouncker and
Sir William Temple ; they were both patrons of art
and collectors of treasure, and there was not a little
jealousy between them. Mr. Courtenay quotes a
characteristic anecdote of the rival connoisseurs : —

"Sir William Temple and Lord Brouncker being
neighbours in the country, had frequently very sharp
contentions. Like other great men, one could not bear
an equal, the other would not admit of a superior.

" My lord was a great admirer of curiosities, and had
a very good collection, which Sir William used to under-
value on all occasions, disparaging everything of his
neighbour's and giving something of his own the pre-
ference. This by no means pleased his lordship, who
took all opportunities of being revenged.

** One day as they were discoursing together of their
several rarities, my lord very seriously and gravely
replied to him, < Say no more of the matter. Sir William ;
you must at length yield to me. I have lately got some-
thing which it is impossible for you to obtain, for my
Welsh steward has sent me a flock of geese, and these are
what you can never have, since all your geese are swans ! ' "

Students of Sir William Temple's character will
not be surprised at his dislike to admit superiority, but
that he was in the habit of bragging of his belongings
is unbelievable. The " most courteous and finished
gentleman of his time" would certainly not descend to
this, and the first part of the anecdote must be taken
with the proverbial grain of salt. Lord Brouncker's
raillery was, however, doubtless quite legitimate, and
witty into the bargain. Sir William might have re-
torted that "no one was more fitted to judge the
difference between the birds than his lordship," but we
may be sure he was much too punctilious to do so.

MOOR PARK 173

In 1689, when Mary and William were firmly seated
on their throne, young John Temple was permitted
by his somewhat autocratic father to accept the office
of Secretary of War. Within a week, the cruellest
blow his parents had yet received fell on them through
this, their only remaining child ; for, overpowered
with the weight of responsibility entailed by his new
office, and cut to the heart, it was said, by the want of
good faith shown by his friend Lord Tyrconnel in
Irish affairs, he drowned himself in the Thames.

He took a boat at the Whitehall steps, and bidding
the boatman row out into the stream, laid a paper
on the seat beside him. Just as the boat was shoot-
ing one of the arches of London Bridge, he leapt
into the running tide, having filled his pockets with
stones to ensure his sinking. Doubtless by com-
mon consent, no comment or account of this tragedy
is to be found among the papers preserved. Lady
Giffard makes only a passing allusion to it in her MS.

All that we know is, that on the paper was written
this message : ** My folly in undertaking what I was
not able to perform has done the king and kingdom
a great deal of prejudice. I wish him all happiness
and abler servants than John Temple" — words written
obviously under the strain of great depression of
spirits. He was possibly not responsible at the moment
for his actions, and had caught the infection of the
wave of suicidal mania that for the last few years had
spread its fell influence over society. Men at the head
of affairs were living at such high pressure at the
moment, that flesh and blood was not strong enough
to bear the strain, and many overtaxed brains were
thrown ofif their balance by the strenuous thought and

174 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

action demanded of them in these days of **the great
Revolution." John Temple's name was added to this
tragic list.

The act of self-murder, as it was called in those
days, was a very deliberate one, and the stoicism with
which Sir William Temple bore this, the death of his
last child, is accounted for by some authors by his
holding the opinion that "a man has a right to take
his own life." But Lady Giffard's MS. would lead one
rather to suppose that he was a fatalist, and, believing
that everything was pre-ordained and ** che sara sara'^
held that all was eventually for the best, and that it
was useless and wrong to repine. Still, look at it as one
will from whatever point of view, it was a mysterious
and cruel tragedy, and in all probability lost the king
a faithful and useful subject.

So for the last time the gates of Crowne Courte
opened, to let the melancholy cavalcade pass out — four
women, two children, and one man, the whole course
of whose lives were changed at one fell blow — Sir
William and Dorothy childless ; Mary Temple a
widow, her children fatherless ; Martha Giffard with
a heart breaking for the others' grief and for her own
share in it, for she had dearly loved her nephew, of
whom she said ''the accidents of his life would fill a
volume " ; Mme. le Coq, the young widow's mother,
with all her motherly ambitions and hopes for her
daughter crushed out of existence.

In the days of Charles IL it was the custom for
the property of a man who took his own life to be
forfeited to the Crown, and in many cases the king
granted it back to his heirs ; but nothing of this was
mentioned in the case of John Temple.

MOOR PARK 175

The following note, written by Lady Temple in
answer to the condolences of her nephew Sir John
Osborne on this occasion, shows that she was able to
accept the blow with submission. It is preserved at
Chicksands.

Sheen, May ye 6th.

Dear Nephew, — I give you many thanks for your
kinde letter and the sense you have of my affliction which
is truly very great. But since it is laid upon me by the
hands of an Almighty and gracious God that always pro-
portions His punishments to the support He gives with
them I may hope to bear it as a Christian ought to doe,
and more especially one that is conscious to herself of
having in many ways deserved it. The strong revolutions
we have seen might well have taught mee what this world
is, yett it seems it was necessary that I should have a nearer
example of the uncertainty of all human blessings that soe
having noe tye to the world I may the better prepare
myself to leave it, and that this correction may suffice to
teach me my duty, is the prayer of — Your most affectionate
aunt and humble servant, D. Temple.

Some years before this — in 1683 — she had written
one of her charming letters to this same nephew, who
had just lost his young wife. An extract from it shows
the healthy optimism that pervaded her thoughts at all
times, even in her saddest and her most sympathetic
moments ; and the consolations she offered to him she
was able to accept herself in her own dark hour.

** It is not by reason, nor resolution, that we can hope
to arm ourselves against such a blow as you have had.
The oake in the fable had a much stronger root than the
reeds that grew near it, but the storm tore what resisted
it, and what yielded was safe. It is an admirable saying

176 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

that we are as clay in the hands of the potter. We are
certainly soe with respect to God's absolute power and our
own weaknesse, but we ought to be so too in pleasantnesse
to his designes."

Lady Giffard beguiled the monotonous, sad hours
at Moor Park by writing a short life of her brother,
and bringing it up to date. (It is all here but the
special part dedicated to poor Jack, which is not to
be found.)

She wrote this memoir not without some idea, I
think, of publication at some future time, for she
begins her manuscript thus : —

*^ I know that it is unusual to write the life of any
person till the last scene of it be ended, but since such a
misfortune would make it impossible to me I thought I
could not choose a better time than the retirement I am
now in, to recollect some particulars of a life wch is not
unlikely by his writings and publick employments for
twenty years may give some the curiosity to know, and
having lived with him (except some small intervals) from
the age of twelve years old till two and fifty, I am sure
nobody can give a more exact and faithful account off."

She would have been a little surprised if she could
have peeped into futurity and seen how in this twentieth
century many lives are written and read, not only
before the curtain has fallen on the **last scene," but
while the leading comedian is well before the footlights,
and playing not infrequently the double part of actor
and prompter, or even preparing the libretto himself!

Lady Giffard alludes to her nephew's death in a
passage in her MS. giving her brother's refusal to
take ofifice himself or allow his son to do so at the
first coming of William of Orange. ** And though he

daS r^ ^'^'^ '^ '^^"'^

/

I

;i^f^-^:^.^^l/:

/r.':.{

/

Facsimile of Ladv Giffard's Handwriting

MOOR PARK 177

(Sir William) continued unshaken in his resolutions
and soe firm to what he had promised as not to
consent his son should engage in what he had given
his word not to doe himself, yet his heart was a great
deal broken with the distress and uneasiness the prince
and all his friends exprest at it, and quite soe even
after the cruelle blow that happened in his family,
and wch that I may never again have occasion to re-
member the sad circumstances oft, I have somewhere,
at the desire of his friends, set down on paper and
shall leave with this (when I am gon) to make what
use of they think fitt with this deplorable accident
and in all the good fortunes so long taken notice of
in our family, and but too well confirmed the rule that
noe man ought to think his life happy till the end o't.

** With this load of his affliction and my owne and
all of us with our hearts broken, we returned at the
end of that year with him and his desolate family to
More Park, of which his daughter in law, her mother
and two young children (both daughters) made a parte
off. He tooke these firm resolutions of passing the
rest of his life there, and I believe such another re-
volution itselfe could not have altered him. God
Almighty only knows how he shall please to dispose
of what remains to him who upon all the dismal acci-
dents yt happened in his life, I have often heard
repeat these words, * God's holy name be praised,'
and 'His Will be done.'"

Unfortunately for those to whom poor Jack
Temple presents an interesting and romantic study,
his *' friends " thought fit to destroy that paper, and the
full story of his life and death will never be known.

It was obviously on this occasion that Swift wrote
■ •" z

178 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

the lines in which Lady Temple's name alone appears
among his writings. The lines are full of feeling,
and do the writer more honour than most of his
effusions, for they show us that, when shaken out of
his usual selfishness, he was capable of sympathy and
even reverence.

" As parent Earth hath by imprison'd winds,
Scatters strange agues o'er men's sickly minds,
And shakes the Atheist's knees ; such ghastly fear
I late beheld on every face appear.
Mild Dorothea, peaceful, wise, and great,
Trembling beheld the doubtful hand of fate ;
Mild Dorothea whom we both have long
Not dared to injure with our lowly song,
Sprung from a better world, and chosen then
The best companion for the best of men.
As some fair pile yet spared by zeal or rage
Lives pious virtues of a better age,
So men may see what once was womankind
In the fair shrine of Dorothea's mind."

The " strange ague " is a figure of the temporary
wave of insanity that must have overwhelmed the
young man^s mind when he took that fatal step.
Dorothy was never ** mild," as we use the word now —
Swift would have said ** gentle " if he could have made
his line scan with it — and the -words seemed to point
to an attitude of calm resignation on the mother's part.
She was perhaps inured to suffering by this time, and
had long ago given up expecting anything else. She
had perhaps learned to accept sorrow as she had once
accepted joy ; but this was the bitterest of all. There
was but one thing more that could happen — her
** dearest hearte" might die. But she was not to
suffer this. One mercy at least was vouchsafed her —
she was not called upon to close her husband's eyes.

Jonathan Swift

( While a student at Trinity College, Dublin)

MOOR PARK 179

Before long, poor Jack's widow and her little
daughters returned to London, and the inseparable
trio, Sir William and Lady Temple and Lady Giffard,
settled down into a quiet routine with new faces about
them.

Sir William engaged as steward a certain Mr.
Johnson, a cadet of a good old Nottinghamshire
family and a distant relation of Lady Temple's,
whose wife's name occurs pretty frequently in Lady
Giffard's letters, and whose little daughter Hester is
better known by the name of ** Stella." The John-
sons lived in a cottage outside the Park gates, not
far from " Mother Ludlum's " cave. The house is now
known as ** Stella Lodge." Besides this little dwell-
ing and the cottages of the men employed on the
estate, there could have been no neighbours nearer
than Farnham, and Lady Temple's old home (Chick-
sands) must in retrospect have appeared the hub
of the universe. Compared with her new abode,
Chicksands, with its closeness to the high road and
its facilities for a chat with a passing neighbour (Lady
Ruthin, to wit !) was in the heart of society !

Soon there came to this retreat a young man with
a handsome face, bad manners, and a satirical tongue.
Poor, ill-dressed, unpolished, with apparently nothing
particular to recommend him except that his mother
was a cousin of Lady Temple's, Jonathan Swift, who
had lately been sent down from Trinity College,
Dublin, for insubordination and other misdemeanours,
had come to beg his richer relative to befriend him
and find him something to do.

He was received with kindness, if with a certain
patronage, and taken into the household — in which

i8o LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

however, to his disgust, he found himself in no way
treated as an equal — and with the title of private
secretary was given a salary of twenty pounds a year.
Swift must have been a perfect godsend to Sir
William ; his genius was yet young, and he was
willing to sit at the feet of the elder man and listen,
learn and appreciate. If he picked the diplomatist's
brain, he also expended his own best energies in
his service ; and — who knows ? — in spite of rough
manners and biting tongue, his keen wit may have
been sometimes allowed to break a lance with Lady
Temple's sweeter humour, for Dorothy would have
forgiven much for the sake of a clever repartee. In
later years Lady Giffard cordially disliked him, and
he, not to put too fine a point upon it, literally hated
her. There was doubtless some reason for the mutual
antipathy. One has reluctantly to confess that Sir
William's sister seems not to have had a very great
sense of humour ; and there is no trait so mistrusted
and disliked by those to whom it is denied, as that
of the employment of irony or satire by those who
possess it. Swift was witty beyond measure, shrewd
and clear-sighted, and his tongue was sharpened by
adversity — perhaps he did not always bridle it ! — but
if, as we are obliged to infer, he failed to inspire the
ladies of the house with liking, it was not because he
neglected to try. It is quite pathetic to read the
verses with which he strove to propitiate his some-
times angry patron, and to think how the man who
was to rebuke privy councillors, hob-nob with princes,
and eclipse all the wits of his day, passed sleepless
nights with anxious thoughts because Sir William
had ** looked cold on him." The days were to come

MOOR PARK i8l

when the secretary, grown intellectually to a giant's
stature, was to see his master as he really was, apart
from glamour, environment and prejudice, and to
know him to have been an honourable and cultured
gentleman, with fine judgment, excellent abilities, and
clear brain — a man pure-minded and straightforward
where others were coarse and crooked, but a man of
talent, not of genius like himself — an honest man, and
not a demigod ! But that day was hidden in the
future, and at Moor Park Swift was a worshipper
at the shrine at which Lady Giffard worshipped all
her life. Lord Macaulay speaks rather sarcastically
of her as " a person of more importance than his
wife." This is certainly unfair. She was apparently
entirely in her brother's confidence, and, unencum-
bered and unfettered as she was, was able to lend
a sympathetic ear and listen and advise him when
his wife, bound by her ties of motherhood and the
duties of ambassadress, had more than enough to
think of on her own account. Because the brother
took counsel so often with the sister, there is no
reason to infer that for a moment she ever came
between husband and wife. Lady Temple was a
brilliant woman, but there may have been times when
Lady Giffard's calm judgment and practical common
sense was more useful to the diplomatist than his
wife's quick wit. Lady Giffard said of Lady Temple
that she was a '* very remarkable woman," and thought
*'her letters ought to be published," so well did she
write ; and perhaps it is to this criticism that we owe
their preservation. But Dorothy's estimate of Lady
Giffard's character is denied us — the pen-portrait we
might have had, is not ; and no written word has come

i82 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

down to us from the hand of the writer of those
charming ''letters" which have passed into the world
of classics, to tell us what she thought and felt about
her husband's sister, who from the moment of her
marriage must have been such an important quantity
in her life.

Mr. Justin McCarthy, in his " Reign of Queen
Anne," devotes a whole chapter to Dean Swift, in
which he remarks, only too truly, that Moor Park
has become famous in literature rather because of
Swift's association with it than because of Sir
William Temple's really distinguished services as a
diplomatist and success as a writer of essays.

It is an instance of one of the petty ironies of life,
that a place, the possession of which was almost a
passion with such a man as Temple, should be more
remembered for its having for a few years sheltered
his once half-despised, barelyrsuffered secretary, and
the little daughter of his sister's ** Gentlewoman," than
for all the love, and care, and money that he had ex-
pended on it ; that the spot made lovely by his taste,
and the graceful presence of his wife and sister, should
be spoken of in literature chiefly as the place in which
Swift wrote his ** Tale of a Tub" ; and that of all the
children who laughed and shouted at their play in
the garden which he loved, only one should be known
to history, and that one neither of his children or
grandchildren, but only the little '* Hetty" who waited
on Lady Giffard !

These letters may throw some additional interest
and light upon the lives of the people who paced the
gravel paths and loitered by the stream — apart from
the secretary whose presence in the family was once

MOOR PARK 183

so little desired by some of them, and who had, perhaps,
no great cause to care about them himself.

Swift suffered many mortifications at Moor Park,
and in his writings he speaks with affection for none
but his patron. But then he was bitter and ungrateful
by nature, and was possibly always on the lookout
for slights. Swift was not Swift without a grievance,
and his grievance there was his social status in the
household — one that he probably brought on himself
by his uncouth and unpleasant manners at table, and
his incorrigible and determined habit not only of
calling a spade a spade, but of dragging that homely
implement into unnecessary prominence, on occasions
when a silver spoon would have been far more to the
purpose ! Dorothy Temple was certainly no prude,
and Lady Giffard was a woman of the world ; but, all
the same, it is probable that they drew the line at some
of Swift's vulgarities, and that he had to mind his P's
and Q's more than he relished, in their society.

Swift was fond^ of saying in after years, that Sir lU t^
William ** spoiled a fine gentleman." It would have '^^tfc 4
been more accurate to have put it the other way. S{^!^
Had it not been for the refining influences of Moor
Park he would probably have never been as much
a **fine gentleman" as he was, and it is certainly
wildly improbable that any other man of his acquaint-
ance could, or would, have introduced him into the
charmed circle of the court, for which his wit was his
only qualification. In reviewing the life of this strange
genius, one can but plainly see that his social success
was, in the first instance, entirely due to Sir William's
introduction, and his failures in life to himself.

Swift dearly loved a practical joke, and constantly

i84 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

inflicted them on his friends and servants. Some-
times they were kindly enough, and sometimes quite
the reverse. Addison tells an amusing and charac-
teristic anecdote of him. Once when the Dean was
travelling in Ireland he found himself obliged to stay
the night at a wayside inn. In the morning when
his servant brought him his boots, he saw that they
had not been cleaned ; he asked him why.

** I thought, sir, as you were going to ride, that
they would soon be dirty again."

*' Oh ! " said his master, *' very well ; go and see to
the horses." The man obeyed, and in the meantime
the Dean ordered the landlord not to give him any
breakfast. When the man returned his master told
him to bring the horses round.

** But, sir," remonstrated the man, ** I have not
yet had my breakfast."

**Oh! that is no matter," replied the Dean cheer-
fully, " we will start on our journey, for it is certain that
if you were to have your breakfast you would soon be
hungry again," and he took him breakfastless away.
We may suppose that he never again neglected to
clean his master's boots when on a journey !
' The historic quarrel between Sir William and his
secretary was a fierce and bitter one. Whichever of
them may have been in the right, the victory was to
the strong, and Swift left his patron's service abruptly
and returned to Ireland, with the intention of enter-
ing the Church. But the unreasonable authorities of
Trinity College, as well as the Archbishop of Dublin
and other dignitaries before whom he presented himself
for ordination, had apparently not forgotten the young
man who had been expelled a short time previously,

MOOR PARK 185

and they refused to admit him to holy orders with-
out a written character from Sir William Temple.
The result of this action was a complete surrender on
the part of Swift, and the writing of a letter almost
abject in its humility — acknowledging past delinquen-
cies, deploring his conduct, and assuring Sir William
that, could he by any possibility have avoided troub-
ling him, he would not have ventured ^to approach
him. He implores his good offices at this most critical
point of his career, impressing upon him the urgency
of a speedy reply, **as it wants only four weeks to the
ordination."

The letter, from which every touch of arrogance
or bitterness is excluded, was perhaps more sincere
than the occasion might lead one to suppose ; and
after the fulsome and exaggerated expressions of
admiration and devotion imposed by the fashion of
the day, he begs his humble duty to "my Lady
Temple and my Lady Giffard " (not without a hope,
perhaps, that they would intercede for him), and ends
his letter thus —

This is all I can beg of your Honour under circum-
stances not worthy of your regard. What is left of me to
wish (next to the health of your Honour and your family),
is that Heaven should accord me the opportunity to leave
this acknowledgment at your feet for so many favours I
have received, which, whatever effect they may have had
upon my fortunes, shall never fail to have the greatest
upon my mind in approving myself on all occasions —
Your Honour's humble and obedient servant,

Jonathan Swift.

This letter is a copy. If, in arranging the papers
for publication after his patron's death, Swift came

2 A

n

i86 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

upon the original, he probably destroyed it, and this
copy possibly escaped his notice. Either Sir William
j — who, though at this period of his life somewhat
irascible, was always kind-hearted — ^^^j^^^.^ himself
in the service of the penitent, or the standard of
qualifications for ordination was not an exalted one ;
for within the prescribed month Swift was ordained,
and appointed to the curacy of Laracor.

Sir William has been accused by some writers of
being a sceptic ; and Bishop Burnet, whose inaccu-
racies and partiality make his opinion of little value,
accused him of holding irreligious opinions and "cor-
rupting all who came near him."

Lord Macaulay probably explains his position
more correctly, except in that he too says that Temple
was a ** Freethinker." The term is a little ambiguous ;
but if he meant that Temple was tolerant of all religions,
as a man of the world must needs be, he was probably
right. " It is certain," writes Macaulay in his essay
on Temple, " that a large proportion of gentlemen of
rank and fashion, who made their entrance into
Society when the Puritan party was at the height of
its power, and while the memory of the reign of that
party was still recent, conceived a strong disgust
of all religion." The imputation was common to
Temple and to all the most distinguished courtiers
of the age.

But however free from the cant of the Puritans they
may have been, the Moor Park household was in no way
neglectful of their religious duties. We see by Lady
Gififard's letters to Lady Portland that she marshalled
her friends to church at Farnham on Sundays, where
they were not always edified by the sermon ; and Sir

MOOR PARK 187

William himself composed a form of daily prayer,
carefully worded so as to meet the belief of one party
without hurting the prejudices of another — a composi-
tion which assuredly never came under the carping
Bishop's eye, or in common justice he must have
moderated his accusation.

The original prayer still exists, and has been pub-
lished at length in Courtenay's life of Temple ; so only
the heading of the worn paper, which tells of much
usage, need be quoted.

*' A Family prayer made in fanatic times when our
servants were of so many different sects, and com-
posed with the design that all might join in it, and so
as to contain all what was necessary for any to know,
or to do."

"His religion was that of the Church of England,"
wrote Lady Giffard, *' in which he was born and bred,
and thought nobody ought to change, since it must
require more time and more pains than one's life can
furnish to make a true judgment of that which interest
and folly were commonly the motives to."

The following lines, which can scarcely be desig-
nated by the name of poem, are written in description
of the largest of the natural caves that burrow in the
dangerously sandy soil of Crooksbury hill. The origin
of its name is obscure, but perhaps it may not be too
wild a supposition to suggest that it is a corruption of
'' Mother of the Lord," " Lud" being the fashionable
pronunciation of the word, and ** Our Lady's Well"
being the usual designation of chalybeate or health-
giving springs. These verses may well be an early
effort of Swift's. The classical comparisons point to
the scholar late from college, while the contrast drawn

i88 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

between the beauties of the court and the beauties
of nature, with the unromantic realistic touch of the
curling irons and the comb, make the supposition
still more plausible. The lines are copied out in a
very large, childish round-hand, laboriously neat and
characterless (might they not have been written by
Stella ?) ; and the finale is so abrupt, and the last line
carried down so completely to the bottom of the page,
that it looks as if it were not the end of the poem ;
but if so, the rest is lost — and not a very great loss
either! — unless the writer had made mention of the
ladies who also *' from their Palace came."

" ha Catabrae dulces et si mihi credis amaena."

A Description of Mother LudwelPs Cave,

" Let others with Parnassus swell their theme.
Drink inspiration from the -^gean stream.
Let them draw Phoebus down to patch a line.
Invoke that hackney fry the tuneful nine.
I that of Ludwell sing, to Ludwell run.
Herself my muse, her spring my helicon.
The neighbouring Park its friendly aid allows,
Perfum'd with thyme, o'erspread with shadie boughs.
Its heavy canopies new thoughts instill,
And Crookesbury supplies the cloven hill ;
Pomona does Minerva's stores dispense.
And Flora sheds her balmie influence.
All things conspire to press my modest muse :
The morning herbs adorn' s with pearly dews.
The meadows interlaced with silver flouds.
The frizled thickets, and the taller woods.
The whispering Zephrs, my more silent tongue
Correct, and Philomela chirps a song.
Is there a bird of all the blooming year
That has not sung his early mattins here ?
That has not sipped the Fairy Matron's spring.
Or hover'd o'er her cave with wishful ring.
An awful fabric, built by nature's hand.
Does rise our wonder our respects command.

MOOR PARK 189

Three lucky trees to wilder art unknown
Seem on the front a growing triple crown.
At first the arched room is high and wide,
The naked wall with mossie hangings hid,
The ceiling sandy ; as you forward press
The roof is still declining into less.
Despair to reach the end, a little arch.
Narrow and low, forbids your utmost search ;
So to her lover the chaste beauteous lass
Without a blush vouchsafes to show her face,
Her neck of ivory, her snowy breast —
These shown she modestly conceals the rest.
A shallow brook, that restless underground
Struggled with earth, here a moist passage found.
Down through a stoney vein the waters rowl.
O'er flowing the capacious iron bowl.
Oh ! happy bowl that gladness can infuse
And yet was new stained with heavy juice.
Here thirsty souls carouse with innocence.
Nor owe their pleasure to their loss of sense.
Here a smooth floor had many a figure shewn
Had virgin footsteps made impression.
That soft and swift Camilla-like advance
While even movements seem to fly a dance.
No quilted couch the sick man's daily bed.
No seats to lull asleep diseases made
Are seen, but such as healthy persons please
Of wood or stone, such as the wearied ease.
Oh ! might I still enjoy this peaceful gloom !
The truest entrance to Elysium.
Who would to the Crimeen den repair,
A better Sybil, wiser power is here.
Methinks I see him from his Palace come.
And with his presence grace ye baleful room.
Consider Ludwell what to him you owe.
Who does for you the noisey court forego.
Nay he a rich and gaudy silence leaves.
You share ye honour sweet Mooreparke receives.
You with yr wrinkles admiration move
That with its beauty better merite love.
Here's careless nature is her ancient dress.
There she's most modish, and consults ye glass.
Here she's an old and yet a pleasant dame.
There she a fair not painted Virgin seem.
Here the rich mettal has through fire pass'd
There the refin'd by no alloy debas'd.

190 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

Thus nature is preserved in every part,
Sometimes adorn'd but not debauch'd by art,
Where scatter'd locks that dangle on the brow
Into more decent haire circles grow.
After enquiry made though no man love
The curling iron, all the comb approve."

Not two hundred yards away is ** Stella's Cottage ;"
and many a time and oft must her childish footsteps
have pattered past by Mother LudwelFs cave on their
way to and from the big house, where she learnt to
read and write from Jonathan Swift.

The cottage, now the abode of a well-known black-
and-white artist, is smothered in creepers, and stands
in a little garden gay with flowers. If it was only
half as charming then as it is now, poor Stella must
have often regretted it in the dreary days spent in
the Dublin lodgings.

Once more (in 1694) the narrative is abruptly
brought to a standstill, and the five last years of
Lady Temple's life are a closed book to us ; the
shadow of Crooksbury hides her from our curious
eyes. What records Lady Giffard may have left,
undoubtedly have been destroyed; and life at Moor
Park, from the day of the family's return thither until
Lady Giffard breaks the silence in a letter to Lady
Berkeley in 1697, is unknown. We can only tell
that in 1694 Lady Temple died. They laid her
in the grave of little Nan in the Abbey, and the
brother and sister were left alone.

What a host of memories, some sad, some sweet,
must have crowded into Sir William's mind as he
paced the gravel paths on the sunny side, or wandered
by the stream in his beloved garden ! How far away
the tedious seven years during which he waited for

MOOR PARK 191

his wife, yet how close they must have seemed when
she was gone ! Perhaps he remembered without
bitterness the strong opposition of her brothers to
his suit — the fight he had with them over the little
property that was to come to her from her father,
the difficulties they had placed in his way when, with
the unlimited pride of the Cavalier squires, they had
thought the rising young politician, not yet launched
into diplomacy, no mate for their charming sister,
who could not count her *' servants " on her fingers.
How true she had been to him in spite of the coldness
and depreciation of her family! and (now that there
would never be any more of them) how doubly valu-
able had become the letters that lay in the cabinet !
It is strange that the correspondence of so many years
should have been destroyed, and the earliest letters
kept, only excepting the seven printed here and one
from the Hague. A thousand pities, too ; for those
written during the years of his diplomatic career,
during which they were often separated, must have
teemed with historical interest and tit-bits of gossip
and news from home.

The last mention that we have of '* Dorothy
Osborne " (as she will always be to her ** servants *')
is a single sentence in a book written by a foreigner
visiting Moor Park, telling how Sir William, wishing
him to see the Duke of Somerset's magnificent seat
at Petworth, ** desired Lady Temple to write to the
Duchess on his account."

This writer was a Swiss gentleman named Baral,
travelling in England, who, anxious to see and talk
with the " celebrated negotiator and philosopher,
Le Chevalier Temple," in his own home, called on

192 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

him there. He received every sort of attention, and
found him ** charming and expansive in conversation."

** I spoke with him of his works/' says M. Baral, '< he
asking me whether I had read them in English or
French ; and on my telling him I had read them in
French, he complained of the translation and told me
the work had been cruelly disfigured.

" It was in his house that I saw the model of an
agreeable retreat : far enough from the Town to relieve
it from visits, the air wholesome, the land good, the view
confined but pretty ; a small rivulet which runs near the
house makes the only noise which is heard there. The
house is small but convenient, and neatly furnished, the
garden proportioned to the house, and cultivated by the
master himself, who is without business, without projects,
and a few reasonable people to keep him company — one
of the greatest pleasures of the country to him who is
fortunate enough to possess it. I saw the effect of all
this — I saw Sir William Temple, healthy and gay ; who
although gouty and of an advanced age, tired me with
walking, and but for the rain, would, I suspect, have
obliged me to ask for quarter. . . .

** This good old man thought that I should not be
reconciled to my trouble in seeing me in his small house ;
though I assured him I was more curious about men
than buildings, and it was enough for me to have the
honour of seeing him, he insisted on it I must go to
Petworth, the country seat of the Duke of Somerset. He
furnished me with horses and servants to conduct me
thither ; and fearing the Duke might have gone to London,
he desired Lady Temple to write to the Duchess. The
Duke received me politely. He generally lives in the
country, if we can designate as retirement a magnificent
style of life where there are more than one hundred
servants, a Palace fairer than that of the King, and a
table well supplied.

" For my own part," reflects Monsieur Baral, " I

Neischer pmxit

MOOR PARK 193

consider a moderate income as essential to retirement
as retirement is essential to a happy life, and that a very
rich man has a very hard task to perform.

" In this magnificent Palace," he continues, " the quiet
house and garden of Sir William Temple continually
occurred to my mind and made me dream of the pleasures
of a secluded life. I could think of nothing else, and I
hastily returned to London to arrange for my departure."

Long after Lady Temple was gone, her memory
was still green in Holland, where her charm and sweet-
ness was affectionately remembered. The following
extract from a letter written in 1770, seventy-six years
after her death, addressed to her grand-nephew, Sir
George Osborne, Bart, of Chicksands Priory, testifies
to this. Presumably it is in answer to inquiries he
must have made about his great-aunt's letters.

*<As to Mr. Wray I know him well, and his intelli-
gence of Lady Temple's letters is very true. I believe
he had it from the late Duchess of Kent, who knew Lady
Temple was so highly regarded in Holland that she one
day took a sprig of Rosemary from Chicksands garden
to send to one of her correspondents there in a letter ;
she was in such high esteem that it was usually said she
wrote most of Sir William's letters. I suppose you know
that her portrait is at Chicksands ; it is a sad daub which
if I had money I would get copied by a better hand.
Duchesse of Somerset gave it me ; she is the Dorothy
Osborn buried in Westminster Abbey that you must have
seen there. I have I am sure often talked of her but
you did not mind it. There were many memorable
things recorded of her which I was acquainted with
from Sir John Osborn and my aunt Digges, but in these
days she might be reconed a buisy officious woman when
ladies are bred to know nothing but nonsense.

<* Mrs. Temple did lend me these letters to read with

2 B

194 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

injunction not to shew them. I very much doubt if she
would send them to London. You must call on her some-
time when you go to Stansted, I don't think they would
answer to you, the principle were letters from Chicksands
before she married. Her father Sir P. O and his family
was against the match, for he was only a younger
Brother and most of those letters were in the tender
stile with sensible sentiments, indeed I believe Mrs. Temple
burnt them after I had read them, she said she would,
as indeed I think she should, such letters can never be
exposed to advantage, there were many wrote after her
marriage, they soon grew tame and flat to what was before."

It is fortunate for us that Mrs. Temple (Betty)
changed her mind, and did not burn the letters. Per-
haps she began to do so (for of the ''many" written
after marriage, only seven survive), and perhaps her
heart failed her, or she died before she had finished
her task; and when, after her death in 1772 at the
age of eighty-six, they came into the possession of
her sister, Mrs. Bacon, she also refrained from com-
mitting to the flames those that remained, but left
them to be enjoyed by generations to come.

The Duchess of Kent who ''spoke of them to
Mr. Wray" was Sophia, the ninth daughter of Lady
Portland, who had married Henry de Grey, Duke of
Kent.

"My Aunt DIgges" was Elizabeth, daughter of
Dorothy Osborne's eldest brother, Sir John Osborne,
and wife of Leonard Digges, Esq., of Chilham Castle,
Kent.

Of the two " Stansteds" — one in Essex, the other
in Sussex — either may have been the place to which
Mrs. Temple retired when the death of her husband
obliged her to leave Moor Park. The Essex Stansted

MOOR PARK 195

would have been at no great distance from her sister's
Suffolk home, but the Sussex place was the nearest to
Moor Park.

The lady who wrote this interesting letter was a
daughter of the first Lord Torrington, and sister to
the unfortunate Admiral Byng who was shot. Her
suggestion that Lady Temple might be thought
" officious and busy " at the period at which she was
writing, shows how lamentably the women of England
had deteriorated since her day, under the repressing
influence of the Hanoverian sovereigns, and how
capable such a person as the admiral's energetic, clever
sister was of realising and regretting it. In her own
day no one would ever have thought of applying such
adjectives to Lady Temple, any more than they would
to a woman of her type at the present time. Her
criticism of Lady Temple's portrait is unnecessarily
severe, for, though not a strikingly excellent picture, it
it far better than most family portraits of that date.
The oval face and slender figure are those of a grace-
ful and attractive young woman. She wears round her
rather drooping shoulders a semi-transparent scarf with
vertical stripes. Curiously enough, when, nearly thirty
years later, Netscher painted the picture reproduced
here, what appears to be that self-same scarf, treated
in a more artistic fashion, is loosely folded under the
straight low bodice ; while in the Broadlands portrait
again a small striped scarf is shown — caught, this time,
on the shoulder with a brooch.

What is the history of the little piece of gossamer,
one wonders ? Some sentiment must surely be at-
tached to it, or it would scarcely have claimed the
attention of three separate painters.

PART VIII

1697-1698. William III

LADY GIFFARD'S LETTERS TO THE COUNTESS
OF PORTLAND WHEN SHE WAS LADY
BERKELEY.

" Of all Felicities, the most Charming is that of a fine and Gentle
Friendship ; it sweetens all our Cares, dispells our Sorrows, and Counsels
us in all Extremities ; it is a sovereign Antidote against all Calamities." —
Miscellanea Curiosa (1749).

Among the Egerton MSS. in the British Museum
are thirteen letters from Lady Giffard to her favourite
niece (Jane) Martha Temple, Countess of Portland.
Some of these are addressed *' For my Lady Berkeley,"
she being at that time the widow of Charles, Lord
Berkeley of Stratton, late Admiral of the Blue, and
first Gentleman of the Bedchamber to George, Prince
of Denmark ; and some are addressed to *' The
Countess of Portland," she having married in 1700
William Bentinck, Lord of the Bedchamber to -the
king. They are endorsed in the handwriting of
Elizabeth Bentinck, wife of Dr. Henry Egerton
(afterwards Bishop of Hereford) ''Aunt Giffard's
Letters to my Mother."

All the Berkeley letters are written from Moor
Park ; all but one, which comes from Petworth. Lady
Temple had been dead four years, and the home circle

had dwindled to two — Lady Giffard and Sir William

196

, ».. » » >

' • ;•*.»• »•

Sir Peter Lely pinxit

Sir John Temple the Younger, of Sheen

LETTERS TO LADY BERKELEY 197

Temple. Jack Temple's widow and her two girls
were constantly there, however. Jonathan Swift was
reinstalled as secretary, and Bridget Johnson and her
daughter Hester (called by Lady Giffard ** Hetty,"
and by Swift ''Stella"), with the addition of the
servants, completed the household.

In the family mansion at East Sheen, Sir John
Temple (Sir William's brother) was living with his
wife and family. He had two sons and six daughters.
Frances, the youngest, was the reigning Lady Berkeley,
she having married the late lord's brother William,
who succeeded him in the title. Lucy, another sister
several times mentioned in her aunt's letters, was
apparently unmarried. Dorothy, the fourth daughter,
married Sir Basil Dixwell, a great nephew of Lady
Temple's. She was, before her marriage, one of
Queen Mary's maids-of-honour, and her husband was
made governor of Dover Castle in George L's reign.
Mary was so fond of the girls of this family, that
when Martha married she appointed Frances in her
place, saying *' she would never be without one of
them." Dorothy was the third who had the honour
of attending her.

LETTER I

For my Lady Berkeley,

at Sir John Temple's House,
at East Sheen,
near Mortlake.

July 29.

I did not expect to hear y' Father was in Towne, but
am mighty glad you have him with you to helpe to put
y' businesse in order before you leave it. I am vext to
have forgot in my last to desire the Bill of Betty's plate,

198 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

w^^ would be the same to mee to have payed for before
you came away, pray send the bill as soon as you have it,
& tell mee where the money shall be left. If you bring
the plate downe with you will be time enouf for I hope
we shall see you before her birtheday & till then all but
the comb box it to be a profound secret. My correspond-
ance with my niece begins now to mend I write to her
& she only makes use of M^"® Valery to doe it to me. By
the account of what keeps her in London I still conclude
we shall not see her soone, and by your Brothers not
coming before you y* your Father does not like y' company
well enouff to come along with you.

I am very well content that businesse should be
orderd as you may all be best pleased with it, & since I
cannot fetche you heither perhaps you may carry me
back with you when you goe. Pray tell y' Father I have
so many sorts of tea for him to taste that I doubt he will
not stay long enough to try one every day. One came
just now from Mr. Henley w^^ I have not yet tasted but
sure it must be something extraordinary for I never asked
for any nor ever heard him talke of it. I will keep his
letter till I see you w<^^ is full of the good humour of having
so well succeeded in his Election. Mr. Norton's doom will
not be pass'd till Monday. I wrote y' Father soe long
a letter last post I dare not answer one I received from
him today till y' next, when y"" sister's Bill for her money
shall goe with it. Thank God Papa is not very bad, I
hear him just now going down stairs though with a lame
knee. I will not brag of our melons till you come to
taste them though I fancy nobody has succeeded better
this year. Mr. Montague is successful in all things. I
heard one say t'other day he had so much power in ye
House he could persuade them to vote a man a horse if
he had a mind to it. If Mr. Danvers be out I doubt he
has shewed some of it there but I hear he went to the
office as he said he would doe last Monday. Adieu y'
next I hope will tell us when we are to see you.

LETTERS TO LADY BERKELEY 199

The invincible Mr. Montague is Charles, a grand-
son of the first Earl of Manchester, and first cousin
to Ralph the ambassador, one of those happy
people who are born to succeed. He was the pride
of Westminster School and of Trinity College,
Cambridge. King William made him Chancellor of
the Exchequer. At the time Lady Giffard wrote
this letter, he was carrying all before him. Soon he
was made Baron Halifax (George Savile, Earl of
Halifax, Sacharissa's son-in-law, having died without
an heir). In Queen Anne's reign he went from honour
to honour, and she gave him an earl's coronet. He
was a poet and a scholar, the friend of Pope, and
Garth, and Boyle, who '' incensed him in rhymes and
fragrant praise." Among not the least of his public
services may be mentioned his preservation of the
public records.

** Betty " is the elder of John Temple's two little
girls. They and their mother spent a good deal of their
time at Moor Park, but also were much in London
at Sir William's house in Pall Mall, which he lent
during his life, and left at his death, to his daughter-
in-law. It has been suggested by some writers that
Sir William's well-known antipathy to the French did
not predispose him towards his son's wife, but this
is purely conjecture, though his dislike to that nation
was probably not confined to politics, for he was much
too cosmopolitan in his sympathies to care very much
of what nationality a person was so long as (his wife
would have said) their *' humours agreed." Contem-
porary gossip had it that he left his fortune to his
grandchildren on condition that they did not marry
Frenchmen ; but he distributed his possessions and left

200 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

Moor Park and its contents to his sister for her life,
and his Irish property to his brother John. This was
only gossip, and there is no such restriction in his
will. Mme. Marie was perhaps a little difficult!
Lady Giffard's letter certainly implies that she herself
was under the ban of her displeasure, but one does
not apprehend that it affected her very seriously.
" My correspondence with my niece begins to mend.
I write to her, and she only makes use of Melle. Valery
to do it for me!" Mile. Valery was possibly the
children's governess ; they must have been fifteen and
sixteen years of age then. Betty married her cousin
John Temple, brother of Lady Portland, later on,
and went to live at Moor Park ; she left no surviving
children. Dorothy married Nicholas Bacon of Shrub-
land in Suffolk, and inherited many of her great-aunt's
things — hence the preservation of the letters.

*• Papa," who is heard coming downstairs with a
lame knee, is Sir William Temple; his "enemy"
evidently had him at that moment in his grip.

Lady Giffard seems to have been rather mag-
nificent in her gifts. Betty has a present of plate on
her birthday, and her friends are given packets of tea
at three guineas a pound. The quantity is certainly
small — a pound is divided between two people ! — but
there is a promise of more to come.

The Mr. Henley who has sent her a sample is
the newly elected member for Andover, an old friend
and neighbour living at the Grange, near Alresford,
Hants — a beautiful place once used by George IV.,
when Prince of Wales, as a hunting-box when he
hunted with the ''old Hampshires" (hence the plume
on the Hunt buttons).

LETTERS TO LADY BERKELEY 201

The story of Mr. Norton, whose **doom," Lady
Giffard writes, is '' not to be passed till Monday,"
is a double tragedy — murder and suicide. The young
man, who was a natural son of Sir George Norton,
had ** either the misfortune or the wickedness" to kill
in the street a dancing-master who would not allow
his wife to be carried off before his eyes. Mr. Norton
was tried for this and found guilty of murder. Much at
the same time Sir Alexander Gumming of Aberdeen
successfully carried off a lady (Madam Denis) from
the ring in Hyde Park, and married her (she being
worth ^16,000, says Narcissus Luttrell) ; but young
Norton's escapade was fraught with more serious
consequences.

His father did all that was possible to save him.
He hurried up to town and petitioned the lord justices
to grant a reprieve, in order that a messenger might
be sent to Holland to learn the king's pleasure
regarding him — for William was at Loo. But all
was of no avail. Those days of suspense added but
fresh torture to the condemned man and his friends,
for they brought him no pardon ; and though his
frantic father offered ^5000 for it, the judges, for
once, refused a bribe, and he was condemned to be
hanged. With the help, however, of a devoted aunt,
he managed to evade the hangman's knot, for the
night before the execution she brought him poison,
which they both took together. The dose killed him,
" but," says the diarist, '* his Aunt is like to recover."

2 c

202 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

LETTER II

For my Lady Berkeley

at Sir John Temple's House,
near Mortlake,
East Sheen.

Oct. ye lo, 1697.

You will wonder less when you find how glad I was
to be ridd of you that you have never heard from me
since our worthy Postman never called for ye letters a
Friday and his excuse today is his horse was up to ye
Belly in a Bogge but I believe he was up to the throat
with a bottle wch he has promised shall never be agin
and you must be content by it for once to have two
letters to East Sheen together, and to tell you how my
time has past since you went I have had less pain as well
as less entertainment, once I ventured abroad last week
when I found there nobody to chide me and was mch
the better for it, but today I could not helpe wishing you
could have bin at Mooreparke with four steps soe you
could have walked with me as I did first to another puddle
in the gravvel walk and then out of it. Papa wishes you
hear to, at a piece of roast beef at dinner wch he eat for
the first time with a very good stomach and I must tell
you is now a great deal better, whatever comes after it.
He has bin mighty weary with his hand since you went
but all the old paines begin now to weare off, and he
complains yet of no new ones. I will not ask how you
liked y^ House y* dismal day next time I hope you will
choose a better and tell me.

I did not intend you should have thought of anything
I desired besides writing to me till you had less to thinke
of for y' selfe. But one thing I think is absolutely neces-
sary y* I once spoke to you of when I was here, y* I
should some day or other send a compliment to my Lady
Essex when she is in Towne.

If ever you have occasion to send Mrs. Kilby to London

LETTERS TO LADY BERKELEY 203

I desire she may doe it for me, and y* you will take some
of the fault on yourself that it came no sooner. I leaye
the compliment to you to make for me and desire to
know what reception your mantel had. I have not heard
from Wickham since you went but had a letter from
Petworth yesterday with Herrings wch we all wished you
some of. Lady Scarborough was there still but to goe
home to-day. Ye Duke of Somersett returns this week
but I fancy neither will happen without a better fit of
weather then it is likely should come this year. Tell y'
Father I will find some way of sending him Virgil as
soone as I have read it my selfe. We are well advanced
in Ogelbie since you went and you will be too happy
when you are here too, to have read Homer before it, but
you will want Doll to put you in mind as she does us
of everything we have forgot. Papa and I desire my
L^ Berkeley should know y* we approve of all things of
his taking L^ Overy's House. I hope his Lady received
a letter I wrote her since you went in answer to hers wch
I wish you could tell me without asking her for I have
had sad luck since I saw you, with some letters which
1 hope will never befall me with yours. Adieu.

This letter plainly shows the affectionate terms on
which the aunt and niece were. The inference is that
Lady Giffard had been ill and Lady Berkeley had
been mounting guard, and would not have allowed
her to paddle out in the wet had she been there to
*' chide her." When one thinks of the state of the
roads as described by Celia Fiennes at that time, one
may believe that part, at least, of the defecting post-
man's excuse was true.

Poor Sir William eating his slice of roast beef at
dinner in fearful apprehension of future punishment,
is pathetic enough in its prosaic suggestion. His

204 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

sufferings must have been very great, and perhaps not
much alleviated by his own amateur doctoring !

Ogilby, the writer mentioned in this letter, was
the translator of many of the classics. His learning
was somewhat superficial, though his versatility and
energy were extraordinary. His faulty rendering of
Homer's Iliad and Odyssey roused Pope's ire, and
he let fall the vials of his wrath on Ogilby's work,
among that of other minor poets. But, at the time
Lady Giffard and her brother were amusing them-
selves by reading his translations, Pope had not
pronounced his scathing verdict (which effectually
quenched poor Ogilby's light) that ''his work was
beneath criticism " ; and in the absence of better
translations they doubtless received much pleasure
from the translations, imperfect as they were.

Lady Giffard particularly affected Spanish poetry,
and some fragments of her translations have been,
perhaps accidentally, preserved. A little unbound
booklet, tied with green thread, contains her trans-
lation into English verse of **The Parting Sireno
and Diana." The lines do not, however, run very
smoothly, and the rendering is perhaps too con-
scientiously literal to be graceful in the English
tongue.

Younger members of the family followed her ex-
ample, and John Temple of Sheen (afterwards of
Moor Park) translated Scipio's dream from Cicero,
and sent it to her neatly written on several pages
sewn together with thread, accompanied by a letter
saying that as he has always found her *'a partial
judge of his dreams, he ventures on a translation
of others' poetry."

LETTERS TO LADY BERKELEY 205

The Lady Essex who is to receive the com-
pliment is Elizabeth Percy, widow of the unfortunate
earl who was thrown into the Tower, on suspicion of
being concerned in that *'Mealtub" plot which sent
Lord Russell to the scaffold. On the morning of that
nobleman's execution, Lord Essex was found dead in
his room.

A short version of the pitiable story is given in
Luttrell's '* Diary," under the entry of July 13, 1683.
** About 8 in ye morning the Earl of Essex in the
Tower, upon account of this new plot, did most bar-
barously cut his own throat from ear to ear with a
razor, wch occasion is doubtful, some say the sense
of his guilt, others the shame of his accusation of
such a crime when his father Lord Capell died for
his loyalty to the late King (Charles L). His Majesty
has been pleased to give his goods wch have been
forfeited to his son."

Sorrow seems to have marked down Lady Essex
for its own, and she was singularly incapable of coping
with it. Yet she lived to be an old woman, and only
two of her children survived her — her son, who after-
wards married a daughter of Lord Portland, and a
daughter who married the Earl of Carlisle. The
appalling tragedy of her husband's death had fol-
lowed that of an idolised girl — a grief that threw her
into an alarming state of melancholy. Her over-
mastering love for this child is noticed by John
Evelyn. In an interesting passage relating to the
Essexes he describes the pair. '* He (Lord Essex)
is a sober, wise, judicious, and pondering person, not
illiterate above the rate of noblemen of his age, very
well versed in English history and affairs, industrious,

2o6 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

frugal, and in every way accomplished. His Lady,
being sister to the Earl of Northumberland, is a wise
yet somewhat melancholy woman, setting her heart
too much on the little lady her daughter, of whom she
is too fond." Widespread sympathy for the bereaved
mother must have poured in upon her from all sides
when this beloved child was taken from her, but
nothing apparently could rouse her ; so out of his
great friendship and his full heart — for had he not but
lately lost his own little Nan ? — Sir William Temple
wrote her a letter which has gained already a publicity
its writer, we may be certain, neither anticipated nor
desired. Only a short extract from it will be welcome
here. It might be the letter of a father to a daughter,
or an elder brother to a sister, so far-searching and
intimate is its tone ; and throughout it incites her to
bear her sorrow bravely and unselfishly.

" What is past help should be past grief," is the
burden of his song, and he puts forth every argument
he can suggest to induce her to throw off her melan-
choly and sting her into action. " If you look about
you and consider other lives as well as your own," he
says, ** and what your lot is compared to those that
have been drawn into the circle of yr knowledge ; if
you think how few are born to honour, how many die
without name or children, how little beauty we see,
how few friends we hear of, how many diseases and
how much poverty there is in ye world, you will fall
down upon y' knees, and instead of repining at one
affliction will admire so many blessings as you have
received." And then, having exhausted the religious
and the common-sense points of view, he reminds her
that noblesse oblige; and after what seems an almost

LETTERS TO LADY BERKELEY 207

cruel suggestion that her extreme fondness may have
been as displeasing to God as was then her deep
affliction, he appeals to her pride of birth and self-
respect.

** I was in hope that what was so violent could not
be so long, but when I observed it to be stronger with
age and increase like a streame the further it ran,
when I saw it draw out to such unhappy consequences
and threaten no less than your child, your health, and
your life, I could no longer forbear this endeavour.
Nor to end it without begging of y"" La^^ for God's
sake and for your own, for y' children and your friends,
for your country and your family's, that you would no
longer abandon yourself to disconsolate passion, but
that you would at length awaken y' piety, give way
to y' prudence or at least rouse up the invincible
spirit of the Percies that never yet shrunk from any
disaster. That you would remember the great
honours and fortunes of your family and not always
the losses ; cherish those views of good-humour that
are sometimes so natural to you, and seal up those
of ill that would make you so unnatural to your chil-
dren and to yourself; but above all, that you would
enter upon the cares for your health and your life, for
your friends' sake at least if not for your own."

Temple must have felt when he sent that letter
that he was leading a forlorn hope ; it must have
been such a chance if it did good or harm, if
the poor lady was in a mood to be hurt or offended
at the sternness of some passages, or if she would
catch at the strong hand held out to her, and let
it pull her out of the Slough of Despond. But
whether or not, his end was gained. She appreciated

2o8 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

the feeling that prompted him ; and when Sir William
died twenty years later, she wrote, ** The Kingdom
has loss in such a man, and my poore self has lost
a true friend."

LETTER III

For my Lady Berkeley,

at her house in Dover Street,
London.

Oct. ye 30, 1697.

You sertinly staid at Moor Park as long as it has to
be endured and I am mightily comforted to have lost you
since I rose this morning and saw all ye ground covered
with snow wch. never happened before in October as
many years as my life has lasted and was but in May
yt I was ready to cry to see all my cammellias dis-
covered in it. You will be glad to hear in ye midst of it
that Papa is soe well as to have dined below every day
since you went soe yt I have not wanted something to
revive me, while the weather was good I endeavoured
to do it with walking as long in the gravel walke as you
fancied me the day you left us the Horses came noe
more where they went out if the coachman is to (be)
found who I suppose you helped to come home better.
I had a letter from the Duchesses of Somersett who is
very sorry (to tell you her owne words) she shall not have
the happinesse to see La Berkeley at Petworth this year,
wch she had soe long pleased herselfe with she says she
has drunke as good a tea at Almay as she had tasted
theese seven years so I have desired yr sister today to buy
half a pound and divide it between yr Father and I if we
both like it I will send for some more, but pray let me
have your opinion too and another request I have yt you
pay for it viz. 3 guineas a pound I am sorry you were not
heare to read my Lord Sunderland's letter you knew
before yt he was to be heare next May but you did not

LETTERS TO LADY BERKELEY 209

know that I was to goe back with him and yt against yt
time Mr. Henley is to be desired to take his measures
better. I had a letter from yr cousin Temple today
telling me her affaires is so well advanced yt she hopes
to se us again soone, and have heard more since then
I wish of the effects of her remedy though I would not
have it goe further, yet Mary's servants say they have taken
his vomits till they were hardly able to drag their legs
after them and indeede Mary does looke as if she would
never recover it but the worst is I finde the children have
taken them too. I should not have told you this but I
feared you or any of yr friends might be drawne in as
I was almost one day yt my stomach was very ill and
I certainly had eaten a pear yt was offered me but yt I
happened to aske if it would not make me vomit wch
you know is never my inclinations, she said not unless it
met with some humours wch I could not answer it shd
not doe, with many ill ones in me. All this I must
out with when she comes and try to keep the children
out of his hands I wish I may come off well at this rate if
I goe on you will know as much of Moore Park as if you
sat still in your little corner by my fireside. I wish I may
find no more to tell you. I had a letter from L. Berkeley
today but mentions nothing of what I write about. Ye
reasons for not venturing in this weather yt I will never
believe he takes ill or yt anybody can thinke soe desolate
as we are here yt such friends would not be welcome.
I think ye Duchess of Grafton since she has been able to
govern her life no better is very discreet to let somebody
else doe it for her. Yr maid shall be remembered and
sent with a bundle of all the other things we agreed upon,
pray don't spare ye cheese I can furnish you with another
when yt is gon but believe you have letter enough to
serve you for a greate while. I had a very good one
from Jack to-day and hope soone to hear yt yr other
Brother has arrived I writ to your Father a Friday.
Adieu.

2V

2 10 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

The two most important people mentioned in this
letter are Lord Sunderland and the Duchess of
Somerset. Both are historical personages. Lord
Sunderland was the son of ** Sacharissa," and at this
time he occupied a high position in the Ministry ;
and the Duchess was in later years the well-known
favourite of Queen Anne. At this time she had
not been very long married to the ** Proud Duke,"
who had rebuilt, at enormous cost and with great
magnificence, her beautiful Sussex home at Petworth,
and spent a great part of the year with her there,
alternately between it and Sion House and London.
She must have been a considerably younger woman
than Lady Giffard, who was now about fifty, but
that lady's friends were of all ages and every age.
She was, I fancy, one of those charming people to
whom youth or age is immaterial ; she was so
emphatically herself, that what mattered it to those
who loved her whether she came into the world
twenty years earlier or twenty years later than
themselves !

One thing we may deduce from these letters is,
that Lady Giffard was not so much in love with
Moor Park as her brother, and that it was for his
sake alone that she buried herself in " this desolate
place." Lady Berkeley had stayed there, she pro-
tests, **as long as it could be endured," and her
aunt congratulates her on having got away before
the unseasonable snow.

She has evidently very little faith in Mrs. John
Temple's doctor ; and after reading her description
of the potency of his remedies, one is apt to be-
lieve that, left to his tender mercies. Mistress Doll

LETTERS TO LADY BERKELEY 211

and Betty might not have lived to grow up. But
their aunt was not wanting in moral courage, and
no doubt did all, and more than she threatened in
her letter to Lady Berkeley, **to get the children out
of his clutches." One is only astonished not to hear
that he bled them every morning before breakfast!

The **Jack" here mentioned is yet another John
Temple, eldest son of Sir John of Sheen. He
managed all Lady Giffard's affairs ; and when he and
his cousin Betty Temple married some years later,
Lady Giffard made over the Moor Park estate to
them in her lifetime — not, however, to avoid the heavy
death duties imposed upon landowners in the present
day, but to let them start their married life in the
home that would eventually be theirs at her demise.

John was evidently a very favourite nephew,
and deservedly so, for he made the very best use
of his wealth, and spent a considerable portion of
it in charity.

The ** other brother" was Henry — afterwards
Lord Palmerston and the owner of Temple Grove,
East Sheen, near Mortlake — who became the ancestor
of **the great Lord Palmerston," Queen Victoria's
Prime Minister.

The Duchess of Grafton, who is thought wise
to place her life in another's keeping by marrying
en seconde noces Sir George Hanmer, a Buckingham-
shire baronet, was Lord Arlington's little daughter,
whom he called in, to the great annoyance of Sir
William Temple, to prevent any private conversation
between them when Sir William waited on the Secre-
tary of State, on the occasion of his precipitate recall
from the Hague in 167 1.

212 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

LETTER IV

For My Lady Berkeley,

at her House in Dover Street,
London.

November 28, 1697/8.

I am sorry my ugly Velvet gives you so much trouble.
I will not send this back unless you tell me you have got
one much thinner for I am satisfied to have bin out myselfe
in thinking it much to deare, those I mentioned being a
great deal warmer, if you light on one of the wearthe of
this y* you thinke much thinner send it me on Wednesday
and this shall be returned next day, else I shall be very
well content to make use of it having not only bin very
cold at Church to-day but ever since I came home. I
thinke 'twas being struck with hearing poor Mr. Kelsey
prayed for just at y® point of death who was at Church
last Sunday and I doubt got y^ illnesse there wch carried
him away. You know y' uncle and he had always com-
pared notes about y^ gout ever since he came heither, but
y* he has lately bin better off and dyed now of a feavour if
he be dead as we expected when I came home and is the
greatest loss we could have here out of our family, being a
very good doctor and a better friend, and has left nobody
behind him I should care to send to in any extreme 'tis
well I thinke this letter should end wch must all be melan-
, choly and y* I find by yours I received just now you neede
not anything to encrease. I would faine for y* reason
have you goe abroad, though for my owne part y* am in a
desert I doe not thinke I should find less to trouble me in
any other sort of life or company and if you could compose
y*" selfe as not to let y® remembrance of what is past dis-
, turb wht you have left I fancy y' life would not be very
' uneasy. I am sure you have too much sense not to thinke
this reasonable and the thoughts that make y"^ dreams soe
you must try to change them if you would be rid of the

LETTERS TO LADY BERKELEY 213

others. I would faine advise about y' reading what I prac-
tise myself not to read anything very serious before you
goe to bed ; that would be a good time to read Virgil in,
and let y' Turkish history only goe on a dayes. You don't
tell me nor anybodye else whether my L^ Berkeley comes
or noe, if he does I will be more sure to doe as you desire
and for y' maid I will tell you perfectly how y® case
stands, I never saw a greater diligence then Nannie, what
I writt [about] nor is it possible for anybodye to have a
better servant yet y* has not at all changed my thoughts of
parting with her and I fancy too would be glad to have a
mistress, y* did not keep a better sort of servant to such a
one I could recommend her. I hope you will helpe as y'
Cousin Temple has promised to enquire for her till she is
provided soe I cannot resolve now and have promised to
see one here but both those you mention I fancy more fit
to be such a servant as I believe Nanny would be where
one keeps never a better. You know all I can say now
but not parting with her soon we must not hinder them
from providing themselves.

Papa continues pretty well I hope to tell you I am
better next post in the meantime desire you will excuse me
to your Cousin Temple y* I doe not thanke her for her
letter by this. Adieu.

Lady Berkeley has evidently been engaged in that
most difficult and often thankless task of shopping for
other people, and Lady Giffard is torn in pieces with
the desire to rid herself of the unsuitable piece of
velvet without hurting her niece's feelings by not ap-
pearing to like it. We have all been in her position,
and have not always got out of it so gracefully.

In Mr. Kelsey, Sir William has lost his doctor and
his friend — an incalculable loss to a man suffering as
he does. It seems hard he was not permitted to live
a little longer; for a few months later Sir William

214 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

himself died, after much suffering and without the
kindly doctor to relieve his pains, ** for there is no one
else I should care to send to in extremes."

Lord Berkeley had not long been dead, and his
young widow is fretting perhaps. No one ought to
know better how to sympathise than Lady Giffard ;
but to our ideas a course of Virgil before going to bed
seems but cold comfort to a bereaved wife. Yet it is
evidently light reading compared to the Turkish his-
tory she is to study by day ! When one sees what
these ladies read, and wrote, and thought of, one feels
not a little indignant with Lord Macaulay, who accuses
the women of that date of so much ignorance and want
of culture. Whatever they may have been at a later
period, I think the accusation is an unjust one, and
that in intellectual powers they compared very favour-
ably with the men. Sir William Temple was not too
proud to consult his wife and sister on many important
subjects ; both ladies were well-read and cultured
women, and probably very good representatives of
their class.

Dec. ^oth [? 1697].

I must begin by giving you thanks for my tippet than
wch. a better present and a more useful one to me was
never chosen, and I hope to be in a little better credit
both with my Lady Berkeley and you that the first service
Lettice did for me was to take of the black tassells and
put on gold ones. I am sorry to say I doubt it will be
y^ last, but such a mistake between you and I never
happened nor I fancy never will agin, it's my wishe to
tell you all that has happened in this little time, but the
minuit I saw her I concluded my service and she (and I)
were never made for one another, I am ready to chide

LETTERS TO LADY BERKELEY 215

you for thinking I was, were we ill bred or soe ill-mannered
as to employ her in such things as I have noebody else to
doe for me. She deserves the little I know of her the
best service in England, and desires that she goe lest he
fall in love with her, she ownes never to have washed a
room in her life, and when she rose next morning asked
if she must make her owne bed, complained y* she should
not be able to wait and work in a room without a fire and
you know I have no other, but the cruel thing of all was
dining with common servants and y* she said she had
never reckoned upon and doubted she should not be able
to bear, indeed I beheve nobody had a greater right yet
when I spoke to her today how sorry I was to have put
her upon w^hat I doubted she y* had lived in much better
places must thinke very hard and she could not be more
uneasy than I should be every time I did it, but was such
a servant I wanted, she said she had rather enter upon
any service than live any longer out of it, and in y* I
believe told the onne reason but she has lived I find in
great places, and bin an absolute gentlewoman and I dare
say is one by her name and her friends, for I have had a
greate deal of talk with her, her journey shall be pay'd for
and Mrs Bradly that came down with her will goe up with
her agin a Monday, Nanny Lagger who I had order'd to
goe yt day says she is very happy to stay longer and soe
I am going in search of pussle agin, 3 gentlewomen had
bin a little too much state as I make use of my cousin
Dingley whenever I am in want. Hetty's place being the
height of her ambition.

To talke of something else what you write me in yr.
last abt. the quarrell between Ld (L ?) and Mr. M. was the
first words I had heard of it. I must beg of you never to
avoyd writing to me anything you can spare time for upon
y® fancy y* I hear it from others for though it happen as
it seldome does be told from all handes, such different
circumstances wch all of them helpe to make me under-
stand is better, and is pleasanter very often than the thing

2i6 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

itselfe, the reply in that though was very extraordinary
and one sees by it how people helpe towards making
themselves so many enemies. I had an answer today
of the question I told you I asked in my last about the
secretary's money. He says he has amounts for 2500
but by accounts of other years signed by his brother's
hand he thinks he has pretence for several sums for
journeys and other things wch when he knows more
exactly he will tell me. I have sent him (with) another
compliment from Papa to ye King where I fancy he is
not displeased with finding occasions of going.

You give me an account today wch much enlightens
me on all that has happened I must make yt letter ye
compliment of saying yt I find noebody better informed.
I do not know from whence yt comes but I desire to be
acquainted with some of those yt you say are soe kind to
see you still, who will be as much in my favour as you are
in there's, more when Christmas is over you may see any
yt you would have entertained at other times in a night-
goune and then ye great scarfe will serve. I am glad Ld
Berkeley writes too us who I have writt part of Lettice's
story to, she vows you will tell her and I flatter myself
both of you be of my mind yt have to make anybody
miserable or indeed when I can helpe it, to be wch I am
sure she would have bin every day. I am sorry my
paper is done though I am still to write to ye Duchess
of Somerset. Adieu.

These two last letters have taken us a little behind
the scenes, and we have learnt something not only
of her ladyship's wardrobe, but about the interior
economy of Moor Park. Lady Berkeley has been
as unsuccessful in her choice of servants as she has
in velvet. ** Nannie Lagger " and Lettice (?) are both
too fine-ladyish for the place — both would do ** where
one keeps never a better." Hester Johnson was in

LETTERS TO LADY BERKELEY 217

the place ''Cousin Dingley'* coveted, and she was in
no haste to leave it. It is easy to see that Lady
Giffard was a woman who knew what she wanted,
and meant to have it or do without it. Nannie didn't
do, and Lettice didn't do, and so " their service was
concluded." It is provoking to hear so much of
Lettice and no more. The poor girl had a history no
doubt, and one feels quite annoyed with little " Hetty '*
for being in the way, as but for her Lettice might
perhaps have found a niche in the curiously arranged
household and a place in her mistress's heart. Both
she and Sir William were prepossessed in her favour ;
but under the escort of Mrs. Bradley she disappears
from these pages, leaving a trace behind her in the
gold tassels she sewed on the tippet, which gave more
satisfaction than she did, poor girl !

" Cousin Dingley " is the Martha Dingley of Swift's
** Journal." The Dingleys were distantly related to the
Temples, and were of a good but impoverished Isle
of Wight family. She certainly bore Hester Johnson
no malice for being in a place that she would have
liked, for after Sir William's death the two women
lived together in perfect harmony all their after lives.
This is sufficiently obvious by the impartial way in
which the Dean addressed his "Journal," first to one,
then to the other, though Martha was never at any
time a rival to his " Stella."

The "secretary" who is sent with a compliment
to the king was of^ourse Jonathan Swift; and the
errand was invented, no doubt, with the kind intention
of bringing again into William's notice the young man
in whom he had taken an interest some time previously
at Sheen, and had perhaps forgotten. Lady Berkeley

2 E

2i8 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

was evidently about to " change her mourning " and
go into society again ; and the great scarf she was to
wear with her evening gown was the sign of fashionable
demi-deuil.

This mention of Mrs. Bradley is not uninteresting,
because her name appears again fourteen years later,
in a letter from Dean Swift at Kensington to Martha
Dingley in Ireland.

"I was to have seen Mrs. Bradley on Sunday
night," he says, writing on July ist, 1712; *'her
youngest son is to marry someone worth nothing,
and her daughter has had to leave Lady Giffard
because she was striking up an intrigue with a Foot-
man who plays well upon the flute."

This circumstance suggests that Mrs. Bradley
had been in her ladyship's service, ever since we first
came across her escorting the fascinating but use-
less *' Lettice" back to Lady Berkeley in London.

The passing allusions we have in the letters to
such persons as Mrs. Bradley, Mrs. Johnson, Hester,
Martha Dingley, and Mrs. Hammond, makes us
speculate as to what was their exact position in the
household.

Mrs. Johnson, we know, was the widow of Sir
William Temple's steward, and a distant connection
of the Osborne family. Delaney says it was through
Lady Giffard's kind offices that she was brought into
the household. Mrs. Bradley may have been house-
keeper in the London house. Hester Johnson (Stella)
is generally spoken of as ** Lady Giffard's maid." She
can scarcely have been so in the sense that we under-
stand a maid in these days, for, if so, what use was
there for Nannie Lagger or Lettice ? It is really

(7r

'en cr( n^j ?^v/-, ar9 /ctu^

Qo f?)'' four)} cf rv^icfi mil /n^fi^^'^
(And ^aw ^-m/ .{(mtf Hem) jfi

V

:2nc>

C^U

Facsimile of Swift's Handwriting

{Being his copy of Lady Gifard's translation from the Spanish of Monte mayer)

LETTERS TO LADY BERKELEY 219

more likely that the girl grew up as a petted child
about the house, and was made a " sort of fetch-and-
carry " companion by Lady Giffard.

** Three gentlewomen is too much state," wrote
she to her niece a propos of the return of Lettice.
The other two were obviously Hester and her mother.

Did these gentlewomen sit at the family table, or
spend their evenings in the ** withdrawingroom " ? I
think not ; or why should such an outcry have been
made among Lady Giffard's friends, at her being
"alone" at Moor Park after Sir William's death?

Jonathan Swift's position was quite sufficiently de-
fined (too much for his liking !). ** I was Sir William's
secretary and amanuensis " ; but he was not at first
allowed to dine at Sir William's table lest his manners
should give annoyance to the ladies.

He was employed occasionally by Lady Giffard
to copy out her translations, and there are several
scraps of his beautiful decorative handwriting among
her papers.

This is the first mention in the letters of Hester
Johnson, who, to quote Sir Walter Scott's words,
** Purchased, by a life of prolonged hopes and dis-
appointed affection, an immortality under the name
of Stella." Her story is too well known to be repeated
here ; but some extracts from Swift's memorial of her,
written at night during her funeral, may not be
unwelcome.

At the time Lady Giffard mentions her she is
a young girl of seventeen, who adored her tutor
Jonathan, and doubtless brought him comfort when
" Sir William looked cold upon him." It was two
years after Temple's death that she and Martha

2 20 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

Dingley went over to Ireland to claim the lease of
the little property he had left her ; and by the Dean's
desire she practically never returned, for she was only
twice in England after that, during the rest of her
life. It was a strange thing for the two young women
to do, for Stella was not yet nineteen, and Mrs. Ding-
ley had not reached middle age. Their action pro-
voked, of course, much comment and some censure.
Swift was then vicar or rector of Laracor, and the
two girls, by a curious arrangement made to satisfy
Mrs. Grundy, lived in his vicarage when he was away,
and returned to their own lodgings when he was at
home. Mrs. Dingley seems to have been a most
conscientious duenna, and their decorous behaviour
soon silenced gossiping tongues.

Swift himself was, of course, of much maturer age.
He had been a man of thirty when he taught the little
girl, *'who never could learn to spell," to read and
write, and captured her childish affections and her
girlhood's love — a love that he requited with the
callous egoism of his nature. He was too careless
to give her what advantage there was to gain from
the bearing of his name, too selfish to share his small
portion of worldly goods with her, and too jealous
to allow her to marry any one else. Yet in his way
he admired her enormously, and probably, in spite
of his many flirtations, no other woman ever came
so near as she did to touching that cold, inanimate
machine he called his heart. His "Journal" teems
with expressions of affectionate thought of her, his
" Stella." On each recurring birthday he sent her
verses, many of them containing charming lines which
served their purpose — they kept him always before

LETTERS TO LADY BERKELEY 221

her, always the first, and weaned her thoughts from
any possible aspirant to her hand.

At the time of her going to Ireland Hester
Johnson was a beautiful and attractive girl. *' Her
hair was raven black, her features both beautiful and
expressive, her form tall and graceful, of perfect sym-
metry, though rather inclined to embonpoint. To
those outward graces," writes Sir Walter Scott,
**were added good sense, and uncommon powers both
of grave and gay conversation, and a fortune which,
if small, was independent." There was at Codden-
ham a small portrait in oils, of the head of a young
girl with coal-black hair and a sprig of white jessa-
mine tucked into its coils behind her left ear, said to
have been of Stella. It was sold at the sale there in
1890. The little fortune we know about, the ''good
sense" we may perhaps doubt. Her power of clever
and amusing speech was a gift much appreciated and
admired by the Dean, who had no doubt acquired the
habit of applauding and greeting her precocious in-
telligence as a child, till contact with his own sharp
wit acted like flint on steel, and taught the girl's talent
to shine.

Appended to Hawkesworth's edition of his works
is a memoir of Stella, written after her death but from
notes that were probably made in her lifetime. In it
he records some of her witty speeches. They sound
a little too much like pertness to please us at this
moment, when in general society it is considered
rather ** bad form " to say sharp things ; but there is
plenty of fun and humour in some of her repartees,
and we can picture the Dean guffawing admiringly
over his pupil's sallies.

222 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

In this edition are also to be found a few anec-
dotes under the heading of '' Bons mots of Stella."
They were written down after her death by Swift,
who regrets that he had not begun to record them
earlier, and that he can recall so few.

A gentleman, who had been very silly and pert in
her company, at last began to grieve at remembering
the loss of a child that was lately dead. The Bishop,
sitting by, comforted him that he should be easy,
because the child was gone to heaven. ^* No, my
lord," says she, ** what it is that most grieves him is
because he is sure never to see his child again."

When she was extremely ill her physician said :
*' Madam, we are near the bottom of the hill, but we
will endeavour to get you up again." She answered :
*' Doctor, I fear I shall be out of breath before I get
to the top."

She once called the servants to know what ill
smell was in the kitchen ; they answered that they
were making matches. " Well," she said, " I have
heard that matches are made in heaven, but by the
brimstone one would imagine they were made in
hell."

The following repartee was sharp enough ; that
the occasion for making it should have offered, shows
the style of joking of the day. After she had been
eating some sweet thing, a little of it happened to
stick on her lips. A gentleman told her of it, and
offered to lick it off. **No, sir," she said, "I thank
you ; I have a tongue of my own."

" We were diverting ourselves," writes Swift, *' at
a Play called * What is it like ? ' One person is to
think, and the rest without knowing the thing to say

LETTERS TO LADY BERKELEY 223

what it Is like. The thing thought of was the Spleen.
She said * it was like an oyster,' and gave the reason
immediately, * because it was removed by taking steel
inside.' "

• ••.*•

Swift's little memoir is written with great simplicity,
and one feels that he has painted her character really
as it was. The whole description of her sweet and
engaging personality rings true.

"She never interrupted any person who spoke;
she laughed at no mistakes they made, but helped
them out with modesty." And he notices a charm-
ing trait. "If a good thing were spoken, but
neglected, she would not let it fall, but set it in the
best light to those who were present. She listened
to what was said, and never had the least distraction
or absence of thought."

So, as well as a reputation for wit, the charm of
a good listener was hers. However, we hear that it
was not safe nor prudent in her presence to offend
with the least word against modesty (the Dean must
have had a hard task to bridle his tongue in her
presence !), " for then she gave full employment to
her wit, her contempt and resentment, under which
even stupidity and brutality were forced to sink into
confusion, and the guilty person, by her avoiding him
in future like a bear or a satyr, was never in a way
of transgressing a second time.

" It happened one single coxcomb of the pert kind
was in her company among several other ladies, and
in his flippant way began to deliver some double
meanings. The rest flapped their fans and used
other common expedients practised in such cases, of

224 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

pretending not to mind or comprehend what was said.
Her behaviour was very different, and perhaps may-
be censured. She said thus to the man : * Sir, all
these ladies and I understand your meaning very
well, having in spite of our care too often put up
with those of your sex who wanted manners and
good sense ; but believe me, neither virtuous nor
vicious women love such kind of conversation.
However, I will leave you and report your
behaviour ; and whatever visit I make I shall first
inquire at the door whether you are in the house,
that I may be sure to avoid you.' "

So the gentle Stella had plenty of moral courage,
and a dislike to anything vulgar or low which she
had probably imbibed from the Ladies Temple and
Giffard, whose letters (and consequently their con-
versation) were, without being the very least prudish,
singularly free from the coarseness of their times.

Here is an instance of her physical courage.
" With all the softness that became a lady, she had
the personal courage of a hero. She and her friend
having moved their quarters to a new house, which
stood solitary, a parcel of rogues attempted the house,
in which there was only one boy. She was then
about twenty-four years of age, and having been
warned to apprehend such attempt, she learned the
use of a pistol ; and the other women and servants
being half dead with fright, she stole softly to the
dining-room window, put on a black hood to avoid
being seen, primed the pistols afresh, gently lifted the
sash, and taking her aim with the utmost presence of
mind, discharged the pistol loaded with the bullets
into the body of a villain, who stood her fairest mark.

LETTERS TO LADY BERKELEY 225

The fellow fell mortally wounded, and died next day,
but his fellows could not be found.

** The Duke of Ormond had often drunk her
health to me upon that account, and always had the
highest esteem for her." The Duke of Ormond, it
will be remembered, was a great friend of the Temple
family, and no doubt had often seen the little Hetty
with them.

The verses she wrote to the Dean on his sixtieth
birthday show her intense affection for him, and either
a meek humility of disposition, which the foregoing
anecdotes do not point to, or a perfect understanding
of the man who seemed to the world to be treating
her so badly. Her pathetic allusions to her waning
beauty and her youth that has passed in willing
obscurity and loneliness for his sake, are the more
touching for the absence of any note of reproach or
bitterness. ** She never mistook the understandings
of others, and never said a severe word but where
a much severer was deserved."

" Stella to you her Tutor owes
That she ne'er resembled those,
Nor was a burden to mankind
With half her course of years behind.
You taught how I might youth prolong
By knowing what was right and wrong ;
How from my heart to bring supplies
Of lustre to my fading eyes ;
How soon a beauteous mind repairs
The loss of changed or falling hairs ;
How wit and virtue from within
Send forth a smoothness of the skin.
Your lectures could my fancy fix,
And I can please at thirty-six.

When men began to call me fair
You interposed your timely care.

2 F

226 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

You early taught me to despise

The ogling of a coxcomb's eyes,

Showed where my judgment was misplaced,

Refined my fancy and my taste.

Long be the day that gave you birth
Sacred to friendship, wit, and mirth.
Late dying may you cast a shred
Of your rich mantle o'er my head,
To bear with dignity my sorrow
One day alone, then die to-morrow."

Poor Stella ! Poor victim of an egotist's regard !
Long after they had buried her by night, and her
friend, lover, husband, whichever he was, had re-
moved to the other side of the house, so that he
should not see the light in the church, he lived to
be f^ted by the greatest in the kingdom, while the
same cowardly selfishness that would not let him
openly avow the marriage which Orrery believed in,
and Hawkesworth declared was solemnised by the
Bishop of Clogher in the Deanery garden, prevented
his following her to the grave. That he was sick is
his excuse, but he was well enough to sit in his room
and write, and one feels that had the positions been
reversed, Stella would not have excused herself on
this account. Yet, after his death, among his treasures
was found a paper packet containing a lock of her hair,
on which was written in his hand the ironic legend —

" Only a woman's hair."

Did he also sacrifice his own happiness to his
ambition? and, after all, did that woman *'only"
represent the sweetest thing in the world to him.-*

The enigma remains unsolved.

LETTERS TO LADY BERKELEY 227

Lady Giffard's letter to Lady Berkeley,
(From the Egerton papers in British Museum.)

For my Lady Berkeley,

Dover Street, London.

Petworth, Sept, 7, 14, 1698.

We are got hither at last, and Papa I thank God
very well, and so insufferably pert with winning 12
guineas at Crimp last night. The Duke of Somersett
says he never remembers seeing him better. We came
a Monday in the evening and just before the Duchess
had a letter from La. Scarborough to tell her she went to
London today for a fortnight, and intended to se me
at Moore Park as she went by, soe your charm is not yet
ended wh. hindered us from meeting two summers, but
I had a letter yesterday from her to desire that it may
be when the Duchess of Somerset comes to stay there
a fortnight, wh. is to be as soon as she returns from
London and while the Duke goes to Marlborough. When
she is there pray enquire a great deal of our East India
ships with wh. she is concerned as well as I, and nobodye
can inform you better of what I most desire to know is
whether I may take part of my share in what I like or
must be obliged to have it all in money if tis divided wch
wether it be much or little to me would make a great
difference. And now I must tell you what misfortunes
have, I hear befalled some of your friends and mine. My
Ld. Portland and Monsr. Overkerke I hear have had a
quarrell at Loo, and the last they say treated him like a
dog which I am apt enough to believe, for people are too
apt to insult when one is falling and when nobody will
helpe to right one. I believe one has seldom the heart
to do anything towards itt themselves, this they say has
extremely exalted another person, and altogether tis
thought more than my Ld. Portland can beare altogether
any longer, that he may not want a companion in his

228 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

afternoons, I heare that Mrs. Howard came t'other day
from . . . where Mrs. Billingsly had order to take ye care
the children from her and when she came to my Lord of
Essex' lodgings at London, she found a padlock. Upon
that she could not get in wch Mr. Billingsly said he had
my Lord Essex's order for. You know whether I am
rightly informed in all this, and pray send a yd of muslin
for pinners and ten yards of crowsfoot to edge it with
to Mrs. Hanbury before you leave towne, the Dke. and
Dchess. of Richmond dine here to-day and soe my newes
and my letter are at an end together.

Adieu I desire you will send word to East Sheene
what is become of it, there is now noe doubt of our being
home to receive our letters on Friday.

You never told me what became of ... ?

This last letter is written some months later, and
comes from Pet worth, where Lady Giffard and Sir
William are having a very pleasant visit. Papa's
** insufferable pertness" is good news, for it looks as
if he were enjoying a temporary relief from his arch-
enemy the gout. There is a tone of relief about the
letter. Lady Giffard is enjoying herself ; she loves
society as much as anybody, and Petworth affords her
a glimpse of a gay world in which she needed not to
**wear blinkers for fear of what she might see," as
Lady Russell said she must do if she returned to
court in King Charles's time.

Sir William was very fond of cards, and at one
time played high and had such losses that he gave up
playing for many years, but in his old age he doubt-
less thought he might allow himself the pleasure of an
occasional gamble.

The two ladies — the Duchess and Lady Giffard —
have apparently been having a good gossip over the

LETTERS TO LADY BERKELEY 229

doings of their mutual friends and acquaintances, part
of which the latter passes on to her niece.

It is curious that Lady Giffard should write to her
niece about the quarrel between the king's gentleman
at Loo, because, before the next packet of letters were
written, Lady Berkeley had become Lady Portland.

I find no record of either the cause or the result of
the disagreement with M. Auverquerque, but the ** other
person'* who was ** extremely exalted by it" is un-
doubtedly Lord Albemarle. The charming boy, Arnold
Joost van Keppel, that William had brought to Eng-
land as his page, had grown to man's estate, and in the
absence of Lord Portland on his embassy to France
he had supplanted him, not only in the king's affec-
tions but in his place at court. The light-hearted, irre-
sponsible/d?/^ de vivre of the young man was a tonic
to the jaded spirits of his master, who loved to have
him always near him, and loaded him with benefits
and honours, some people thought, far above his
deserts. Portland returned from Paris, where he had
lived for four months at the rate of 20,000 livres a
month, with a magnificence of equipage and hospi-
tality never before seen even in this city of the *' Grand
Monarque," to find Albemarle in possession of his
lodgings at Kensington, and dispensing the king's
favours with thoughtless liberality. Portland, the
friend of a lifetime, the disinterested, honourable
man, who had often refused rewards William had
endeavoured unwisely to press on him, could not see
this new, not altogether worthy favourite, usurp his
place, unmoved. He resented it, and quarrelled with
the king, declaring that though he would " serve him
faithfully as a minister, he would do so never more

2 30 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

as a domestic." His presence at Loo at this time
was as a negotiator to manage the redistribution
of the Spanish provinces in the Netherlands on
England's behalf, and the quarrel with Auverquerque
may have been a political one.

It is not at first easy to see which of the two gentle-
men mentioned is the one with whom *' Mrs. Howard
passes her afternoons," for the sentence is somewhat
involved ; but as Lord Portland was certainly abroad,
it must have been Lord Albemarle who at that time
was much given to affaires de galanterie. Whether
"Mrs. Howard" was one of the Arundel Howards,
or a daughter of the Earl of Carlisle, it is still more
difficult to determine. It is probable she belonged
to the last-named family, as she went to Lord Essex's
house, for his wife was a daughter of Lord Carlisle ;
but whose children she apparently had the care of,
and why they were taken away from her, unless on
account of those same ''afternoons," it is impossible
to discover.

Mr. Billingsly was Lord Essex's steward.

The Duke and Duchess of Richmond, who were
expected to dinner at Petworth, no doubt drove over
from Goodwood, a distance of some miles. His Grace
was the son of Louise de Querouaille, who, supplanted
some years previously in King Charles's affections, had
gone back to France, where Jack Temple had met her
in society in Paris, and the Duchess was a daughter
of Lord Blundell and the widow of Lord Bellasis.

PART IX

1699. William III

THE DEATH OF SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE AND
THE PUBLICATION OF THE THIRD PART
OF HIS MEMOIRS.

"Reputation is a great Inheritance; it begetteth Opinion, which
ruleth the World ; Opinion, Riches ; Riches, Honour ; it is a Perfume
that a Man carrieth about Him, and beareth wherever He goes, and it
is the best Heir of a man's Virtue." — Miscellanea Curiosa (1749).

The visit to Petworth mentioned in the foregoing
chapter was probably the last the brother and sister
were destined to pay together, for it took place on
September 1698, and in the following January Sir
William Temple died.

Narcissus Luttrell records his death thus briefly
in his ** Diary " :

** Sir William Temple, famous for his negotiations
abroad, is dead. He has left his estates to his brother
Sir John Temple of Ireland."

How far this is accurate in detail we shall see, but
the wording of the paragraph is a pathetic witness to
the transitoriness of things terrestrial. Sir William,
as we know, had long retired from public life, though
he did a little wire-pulling to the end. Not unfre-
quently the king came to see him and ask his advice,
and such men as Lord Romney, Lord Sunderland,
and others in the height of their power were glad

232 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

to take counsel with him ; but, for all that, the once
famous diplomatist had long fallen out of the battle,
and since he had become the recluse his ill-health and
studious tastes had made him, as far as the present
generation went he was a man of the past. Had he
died twenty years earlier, his name would have been
upon everybody's lips, and to have explained who he
was would have been more than superfluous.

He had long been out of health, and his friends
had watched his failing energies with sad forebodings,
but it appears from the context of Lady Berkeley's
note of '* Friday night " that the end had come with
rather unexpected suddenness, and a paragraph in his
funeral sermon preached by a Mr. Savage in Farnham
Church points to this also.

** Rivers of tears and hecatombs of sighs would
I with this my voluntary elegie offer to thee, thou all
that was excellent in Man, did it suit with the privacy
of thy life, and thy modest desires, to have such pom-
pous obsequies. But indeed thou hast endeavoured
to steal silently out of ye world, as thou did not long
since froTn ye businesse of it, and hast rather to be
remembered with imitation of what was praiseworthy
in thee than be persued with immoderate grief ^

** He died at i o'clock in the morning, and with
him all that was good and excellent in man," wrote
Swift.

Probably a severe attack of the gout frightened
Lady Giffard, and determined her to send for their
brother John, and there had evidently been some
question as to whether his daughter. Lady Berkeley,
should accompany him.

** I wish I had gone down with my Father," she

Netscher pinxit

DEATH OF SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE 233

writes regretfully in the letter she probably sent back
by the messenger who came to announce his death ;
and very soon she followed it in person, and did,
we may be sure, her best to comfort her aunt.
Every word of her note breathes affection and anxiety
lest Lady Giffard should break down. Such letters
are not written to exacting and self-seeking people,
and it would give us, if we wanted it, one more proof
of Lady Giffard's beautiful unselfish nature.

So in the dead of a chill January night Lady
Giffard found herself alone. The chief object of
her life was over ; the man who had been the centre
of her existence — practically all her life — was gone.
His suffering life was ended, but she had long to live
and much to suffer.

With little pomp and much real grief they buried
the maker of treaties, the adviser of kings, the upright
English gentleman, in the manner he desired. His
body was interred in Westminster Abbey, close to
the entrance to Henry VH.'s chapel, by the side of
those " two dear pledges " who had gone before — his
wife and daughter, little Nan (Diana) — and his heart,
by his own expressed desire, enclosed in a silver bowl,
they laid under the sundial at Moor Park. Some
secret sentiment prompted the strange wish, and we
have no clue to it even if we wished to pry.

There remained in his own family but one of his
generation besides Lady Giffard to mourn him — his
brother Sir John — but there were many friends, and
they, as friends do in time of trouble, rallied round
his sister. They offered her heartfelt sympathy and
kind advice ; they sought to soothe her grief with
words of love and affection for her brother, and in

2 G

234 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

several cases they opened not only their hearts but
their homes to her.

Lord Sunderland was one of the first to write.
The news reached him at Althorpe, his seat in
Northamptonshire. It is a very real concern that
he has for Lady Giffard. Not only does he express
this in his letter, but Mr. Henley, writing after the
funeral, mentions how troubled his lordship is at the
idea of her remaining alone at Moor Park. ** I hear
from him every post, and 'tis wholly on y' La'^'^'
account, for his letters are full of nothing else but
y' staying alone at Moore Park."

She must have been comforted and touched by
the way in which everybody thought of her. She
had a brother left and plenty of nephews and nieces
to help her ; yet men, busy men in high position, and
with full lives themselves, thought of her, and for
her, and made plans for her advantage.

Lord Sunderland! s Letter,

AuTU.O'R.v^, Jan. 30.

I am sure you cannot thinke of your Brother and me,
and not be assured that I am very senably afflicted, indeed
I am, and shall lament him to the last moment of my life.
All reasonable people have had a great losse by his death
but I think next to you I have had the greatest, the chiefe
pleasure I proposed to myselffe was to see him sometimes
which no other can make amends for. You will I hope
want no comfort you can expect after such a misfortune and
I am very insignificant but to the utmost of what I am cap-
able of you may depend upon my service as long as I have
a being for his sake and for your owne. Sunderland.

My wife is sensible of our losse and your affliction as you
can imagine one to be who is your most humble servant.

DEATH OF SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE 235

Letter from Martha Temple^ Lady Berkeley,

Friday Night.

My head and heart is too full to be able to express
what I feel for you and my selfe upon this great blow to
our family yet I cant let this messenger return without
assuring you that you have no friend bears a greater share
with you,^ wch I am doubly concerned in both for your
sake and my own. I beg of God Almighty to support you
and my Father under it and that you would not neglect
yourselves since it cannot at all be of any advantage to
those we have lost and will be much the contrary to them
that are left behind. If my Father cannot prevail with
you to remove from that dismal place I will certainly see
you there the beginning of next week in the mean time
all you desired shall be speedily done. And I can't end
without making it my request that you should for my sake
take some care of yourselfe and let not y' trouble overcome
you, which I am afraid it will do if you don't strive against
it. I beg to have my humble duty presented to my Father
whose affliction I am most heartily concerned for. I
would myselfe have writt to him but that two such letters
are not to be writt, I mightily desire that I may hear how
you and your Father do and dear (Ant ?) remember your-
selfe in thinking how many kind friends you have left
which I am sure deserve your care, and some return for
there concern for you. I wish I had gone down now with
my Father but next week if it please God somewhere I
will see you till when I shall not be easy. Adieu.

Endorsed by Lady Gififard : ** Lady Berkeley."

236 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

Unhappily this is the only letter from this favourite
niece of hers that she appears to have preserved, for
we should have liked to have become better acquainted
with a woman who was the widow of one distinguished
man and soon to be the wife of another — William
Bentinck, Earl of Portland. What she was to her
aunt we can plainly see from the letters she received
from her, and from the fact that she treasured them ;
and one likes to think that in the hour of her deep —
perhaps really her deepest — sorrow (for the love of the
brother and sister for each other was more than ordi-
nary), some of the earliest words of sympathy that
reached Lady Giffard were from the woman she loved
best in the world.

Lord Berkeley s Letter,

February ye 2nd.

The others may have been before hand with me in
writing upon this sad occasion there is nobody I am sure
y* does more truly share with y' La^ in your affliction, and
if one's grief is to be measured by the favours and kind-
nesses receiv'd from him few I believe have more reason
to mourn. I always reckon'd it one of the chief happi-
nesses of my life y* I came acquainted with him and shall
now lament its lasting soe little a time. I was very glad
y* my sister Berkely took the resolution of going to Moor
Park for all the relief y* people in your circumstances can
be capable of must come by the means of such friends as
are true and sincere. I give you a great many thanks for
the present have pleased to send me the cheese is extra-
ordinary good and I am very happy to be in your thoughts
at this time. You can think of none that is more y' La^'^
most humble servant. W. Berkley.

Lord Berkeley, who mingles his praises of the good
man who has gone with that of an excellent cheese, is

DEATH OF SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE 237

but a young man still, and his regret for his uncle by
marriage had not the poignancy of the writers of the
other letters who had known him in his best years.
We see by this note that Lady Berkeley had kept her
promise of going to her aunt at Moor Park, and it is to
be hoped prevailed with her to come away, for a time
at least, from ''that dismal place," as that fine court
lady persisted in calling it. The cheese was doubtless
a '* Wenslydale," for Blandsly, where Lady Giffard
had a small property, is close to this Yorkshire district
so celebrated for its excellent cheeses, which she was
fond of sending to her friends.

Lord Romneys Letter,

Feb. iSth.

I believe I am the last of all your friends that have
condoled with you the losse you have had and I believe
without any dispute I am the man in the world that is the
most sensible and the most concern'd att it, both for your
sake and my owne for I never loved anybody better than
I did him, and I can wish nobody better than I doe you
and I would be glad to give you other testimonies of it,
then onely my saying it. I thinke I never failed in any-
thing that I thought would contribute to your service or
your satisfaction and I am sure I never will if it lies in my
power. I have done something towards it already and
will let you know the perticulars in a short time and onely
tell you att present that I will ever be faithfully and sin-
cerely, Your friend and Servant, ROMNEY.

Lord Romney is the fascinating Henry Sidney,
Sacharissa's favourite brother, and once Master of the
Horse to the Duchess of York. When, with his
friend, Henry Savile, he was dismissed the court on
account of his attentions to the Duchess, he went to

238 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

the Temples at the Hague, and afterwards succeeded
Sir William there as ambassador, so he had ample
occasion and opportunity to see how deeply the char-
acters of Sir William and his family had impressed
the stolid Dutch population.

Sidney's nature was buoyant and volatile, and
all through his life he took a mischievous delight
in mystifying his duller-brained companions. His
numerous flirtations and irrepressible high spirits
found more favour among the Princess of Orange's
maids-of-honour, whom he said were '* a real com-
fort to him," than they did amongst the well-behaved
Dutch vrows ; but he was too good-hearted not to
join forces with good Bishop Ken, the princess's
chaplain, to set his face against anything that could
seriously annoy and trouble Mary, and sympathised
very sincerely with her regarding the prince's insolent
intrigue with Anne Villiers, and consequent neglect
and disregard for her feelings. He had been present
at the coronation of James II., and the story goes
that it was his hand that was raised to balance the
crown that sat so unsteadily on the king's head, with
the remark, ** It is not the first time, sir, that my
family has supported the crown."

Miss Strickland has called him severely **a false
friend to James." If so, so were many others who
saw in the new king's rigid determination to strain
every nerve to place their country once more under
the yoke of Rome the attributes of an impossible
ruler, and in William of Orange, with all his unlovable
qualities, the only man able to take his place. They
realised, regretfully as may be, that the occupation
of the throne by an English princess and a strongly

DEATH OF SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE 239

Protestant prince was the only way of averting
further disaster. The man had to be sacrificed to
the cause ; and if to accept James's abdication, and
to join in proclaiming that ** Le roi est mort. Vive
le roi ! " was being false, so were many others who,
except for this reason, would have found it far less
hard to be loyal to King James than to William the
Dutchman.

Mr, Anthony Henley* s Letter,
Madam, — I am aifraid I ought not to tell you that
the King talked to mee about a quarter of an hour
yesterday morning about y' La^ and y' losse and exprest
the greatest concern for both that ever I saw him doe ;
But there is this 111 circumstance in Afflictions that one
feels 'em but the more for one's friends bearing a part
in 'em I wish it could be otherwise in y' La^'* case y*
you might have the benefitt of soe many people sharing
with yours and especially — V La^'* most Faithfull humble
Servt., Ant: Henley.

Feb, 2, 98.

My L^ Berkeley has show'd me Mr. Savage's sermon
w*^^ I have the same thought of that I am like to have
of everything that aims att giving a character that I think
nobody should dare to pretend to attempt. At the same
time I can't but love the man for his good will and I
don't know iff anybody else would have succeeded better ;
and the best wee have left must have failed upon the
same subject. I hear from my L^ Sunderland every post
and 'tis wholly upon your La^'^ account for his letters are
full of nothing else but y' staying alone att Moore Parke,
Y' La^ will know from him very shortly upon this subject.
And I hope what he will say will have the effect w*'^
all y' friends wish and none more then — Y' La^'" most
humble Servt., Ant. Henley.

Feb. 16, 98.

240 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

Anthony Henley has already been mentioned. He
was a pungent wit, and the friend of Congreve, Pope,
Addison, and other men of letters; a correspondent
of Swift, not a worshipper of the man but of his
genius. He was also admitted to some intimacy with
the king, and on this occasion they spoke together
affectionately of the loss of Temple and the loneli-
ness of his sister.

The Duchess of Somerset* s Letter,

The only reason that kept mee from writing to you
Deare Madam was the fear I had of troubling you, but
I cannot forbeare any longer from telling you how sure
a sense I have of your misfortune I shall allways be most
heartily sory for any thing that afflicts you but in this
I thinke myselfe particularly concerned for both my Lord
and I have lost a friend wee had a very reall esteem and
kindnesse for and shall ever have soe for his memory
I will say noe more on soe sad a subject but end this
with begging you to believe that noe body liveing is mor
sincerely your faithfuU Humble servant,

E. Somerset.

Feb. 4th. My Lord presents his humble service to
your LaP and bids mee tell you he shall thinke it a good
fortune if he be capable in any kind to serve you.

For my Lady GiFFARD
at Moore Parke neer
Farnham in

Surrey.

Lady Essex's Letter.

Deare Madam, — I wish the many sharers you have in
y' greate trouble could hope to cast ofF the heavie load y*
must of necessitie lie upon you for ye loss of ye best of
friends ye Kingdome has a loss in such a person and

DEATH OF SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE 241

everyone y* was happie in knowing of him. I am sur my
poore selfe has lost a very kind good friend ye best is I
am see neare going ye same way soone, w^^ must help to
make all things more indifferent to me whilst I am upon
earth. I have made all ye inquiries I could after you, and
doe heare you have some of your relations gone to you I
would most willingly have come myselfe but I feared
rather the giving you trouble y' being able to doe you any
service, and then, since Providence has this ordered it I
might be so happie as y' your La^ and I could live and
die together, it should be w'ch way you pleased cither
towne or Country is a like to me and ye small fortune I
have you should com'and to keep as w'ch way you like
best, but you are a better orderer y" I therefore I should
desire to committ it to your hands I very much feare you
will not grant my request yett I could not but be so kind
to myself as to make ye earliest offer to you.

My Lord Carlisle still persuing his resolutions of going
into ye North, whatever becomes of me, I am to ye end of
my dayes most affectionately your humble servant.

Jan, ye 31.

Endorsed in Lady Giffard's writing: ''Lady Essex."

Lord Berkeley of Stratton^s Letter,

I was hinder'd from writing to your La^ last post by
making my court at Kensington after which it was too late
to give you an account how your message was received,
but I am very glad to tell you now y* I think it was very
well taken and ye King said you might be assured y*
nobody could take a greater part in what concern'd you
than he did. I am very much pleased with the thoughts
of your coming to East Sheen for your own sake for I did
intend to have seen you at Moore Parke very soon and
my Sister hath so good accomodation for you in her
house y* I hope you will very soon make use of them, I
really think it would be troubling yourself to noe purpose

2 H

242 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

to think of any other way of living tho' I owne y* upon
any other accounte I should be very sorry to lose the
hopes of our living together but this is soe reasonable
there is not a word to be said against it and we shall be
soe near y* it will be like being in the same house I could
not see Mr. Norton, but I gave y' letter to Mr. Henley
who promised to take care of it. I read the sermon and
liked it extreamly but Mr. Danvers and Mr. Henley are
both of opinion it is not well enough for the subject and
concluded it was better not to print it. I willingly sub-
mit my judgment to theirs it being certainly better to
have such a thing suppressed if it is but indifferently done
for mediocrity will not be proper in that case. I am y'
LaP most humble servant. W. Berkeley.

Feb. ye i6th.

The sermon composed with so much care and
such an expenditure of sentiment never found its way
into print. Poor Mr. Savage overstepped the mark,
and his fulsome panegyric was more than Sir William's
most ardent admirer could swallow.

Three friendly houses were waiting, open-doored, to
receive Lady Giffard when she was left alone. Moor
Park for the time was hers, and she had her own
house in Dover Street. Lord Berkeley had offered
her a home with him, and *' my sister," probably Lady
Berkeley, had evidently made a similar proposition ;
while Lady Essex, now getting old and feeble, pressed
her to go and live with her. So much in earnest was
she, that she would '* live either in town or country '*
so that she had her for a companion ; or, as she puts
it, '' that they may live and die together." But Lady
Giffard found heart to refuse all these kind offers ; she
had perhaps had enough of living in other people's
houses, and wished to try living alone. So she spent

DEATH OF SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE 243

her winters in Dover Street and her summers in her
little house at East Sheen, the house that no one can
discover now, though Sheen is less overgrown and
spoilt than almost any place so near town.

Perhaps, too, it was not all a desire for independence
that decided her ; there were others to be considered,
dependants who would have suffered considerably if
she had kept up no household of her own. There
were Mrs. Johnson, Martha Dingley, and Hester.
These two last soon relieved her of responsibility by
going off, as we know, to Ireland, and Jonathan
Swift had gone as soon as his patron died ; but the
older lady was in her service many years later, and it
was some time before she definitely gave up Moor
Park — indeed not until Betty married her cousin John.

Sir William left behind him a vast amount of
MSS. All his state papers were given to the British
Museum, and are to be found under the misleading
title of ** Longe Papers."

The two first parts of his memoirs and several
of his essays were published under the editorship of
Swift, whom he appointed his literary executor, and
there remained for some years the *' third part," of
which Lady Giffard had an MS. copy and (possibly un-
known to her) Swift another. It was still unpublished,
and Lady Giffard, conceivably with the idea of some
day bringing it out, consulted her friends, Anthony
Henley, John Danvers, and others, and sent it to the
Duke of Somerset to read and give his opinion as to
whether it would be wise or in good taste to publish it
as long as old Lady Essex lived. His Grace's opinion
coincided with Lady Giffard's, that the time had not
yet come when it could be brought before the world

244 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

without hurting the feelings of people still alive ; and
having come to that conclusion, one can imagine that
the advertisement of the forthcoming volume fell like
a thunderbolt. Swift had stolen a march upon her,
and while she had been weighing the possible con-
sequences, he had edited the MS. and sent it to the
press. This was in 1709.

Lady Giffard was furious, and a very warm corre-
spondence passed between them, some of which appears
in Scott's *' Swift.'* She said some hard things — and
meant them. Swift, always captious and touchy,
resented them violently. Lady Giffard denounced him
to her friends, and he abused her to his.

The following letters received by Lady Giffard on
the subject are sufficiently condemnatory of Swift,
whom she regarded as a shameless pirate. Those of
John Danvers and the Duchess of Somerset are
particularly severe — which is but to be expected, as
the duchess had a heavy score against him on her
own account, and Mr. Danvers was then, as always,
*' Lady Giff"ard's friend."

The reasons for not publishing this " third part "
at this time are so obvious, that Swift could have had
no hesitation in feeling that to do so must be a source
of serious annoyance to Lady Giffard, and of pain to
old Lady Essex. The figure cut by her husband
being so poor a one, she cannot but have deeply felt
the knowledge that there was the whole history for
ever in black and white, to run the gauntlet of adverse
criticism for generations yet to come, and to belittle
him in the eyes of his son.

Temple had written this *' Memoir " ** for the satis-
faction of himself and his friends," and not for the eyes

DEATH OF SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE 245

of the whole world. Swift can have had no delusions on
the subject ; the tone of his preface shows that. He
knew quite well what he was doing when he handed
over the MS. to Mr. Tooke, the publisher, who, one
is glad to know, only gave him ;^40 for it.

The fact of its publication put poor Lady Giffard,
as the only representative of her brother, in an
awkward position with many old friends, even though,
as the Duchess of Somerset assured her, nobody
who knew her would suppose that it was done with
her connivance ; yet people are too apt to suspect in
these matters that there is more in them than meets
the eye, and it was quite enough to make a little rift
in the lute, if nothing worse.

Neither Essex, nor Halifax, nor Sunderland came
out well ; they had played a double game with the
king and the Duke of York, and they had tricked
and hoodwinked their old friend, whom they dared
not take into their counsels, knowing that his uncom-
promising sincerity would endanger their project,
from which they all three hoped to reap some
advantage. Temple, in this ** Memoir " giving with
merciless detail the history of the whole manoeuvre,
revealed the real secret of his reasons for retiring
from public affairs, and laid bare the personal
ambitions and desire of place that dominated Lord
Essex ; and he could never have desired in cold
blood to publish the paper as it is. He wrote it
while he was smarting under the painful discovery
that the men he had accounted friends could put him
unceremoniously aside when it suited their purpose ;
and as he wrote, he warmed to his task. He **had
intended to insert some additions," his editor tells us

246 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

in his preface, but " whether they were omitted
through forgetfulness or neglect, or want of health,
he could not determine." It is easy to believe that
besides ** making additions" he might for old sake's
sake have erased some parts ; but be that as it may,
the Lord Essex of the ** Memoir" was the husband
of the Lady Essex who wished to ''live and die" with
Lady Giffard. The Duchess of Somerset was his
niece ; his son had married Lady Portland's step-
daughter. The Sidneys, Montagues, and Spencers
were family friends, and bound together with the
Temples by the warmest ties of friendship ; so that a
slur upon the character of any of their kinsmen thrown
upon them by Sir William Temple must have been
pain and grief to his sister, holding as she did so
sacred the bonds of all friendship, and feeling, as she
naturally would, that the time had long gone by
for recrimination. The actors in the drama were all
dead, and charity demanded that bygones should
remain bygones. But Swift was selfish and not too
scrupulous, and his literary vanity was afire. The
publication would bring him honour and interest.
They were read of course with avidity by all those
who remembered the ** split," and who had hereto-
fore never known the rights of the case. Swift no
doubt had the thanks of his brothers in letters and
politics, and cared little for the censure of the rest.
He had climbed up to the position he then occupied
in society on the shoulders of these people and their
compeers — he owed practically everything to their
example and training — and though King William
never did anything for him after his patron's death,
that was possibly because Sir William Temple was

DEATH OF SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE 247

no more there to push him forward, and Lady Giffard
had no longer any excuse for sending him to court
with "compliments from Papa." The copy of the
MS. of this ''third part'* that is at Spixworth is in
John Temple's writing. Swift probably had the
original, and must have published it faithfully, for it
is identical with that same part in his " Life of Sir
William Temple."

Lord Macaulay alludes to this episode with super-
ficial briefness. It led, he says, "to a coolness with
the family ever afterwards." But the feelings of the
family can scarcely have been termed cool — it was a
white-heat of indignation and contempt on their side,
a fire of wounded vanity and impotent rage on Swift's.
** I never wish to see any of them again." (The wish
was possibly mutual !) ** I will never go to her (Lady
Giffard's) house unless she begs my pardon," he
bragged to Stella. Pardon for what? For giving
her opinion on his ungrateful conduct to him as well
as to others ? It requires a stretch of imagination to
believe she ever did that ! Yet there was a certain
greatness about this man that must have made him
despise himself for selling his honour like this for a
mess of very meagre pottage.

Letter from the Duchess of Somerset,

London, ^M^w 7M-26M.
You are very much in the right Deare Madam in
believing you have bin in my thoughts for as soone as
I saw the tittle of the booke you mention in the advertise-
ment I was afraid it was something put out without your
aprobation, and that you would be uneasy to se in
print. I have not yet had time to read any of it but I am
sorey to find by your letter that 'tis the dame you were

/

/i

248 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

so obliging as to intrust with the Duke of Somerset though
you were unwilling anybody else should see it. I re-
member we both agreed with you that it was not proper
to be made publicke during my Aunt Essex's life and I
am sure Doctor Swifte has too much witt to think it is,
which makes his having don it unpardonable and will
confirme me in the opinion I had before of him that he
is a man of noe principle either of honour or religion but
my Aunt or my Lord Essex I dare say will not think you
had any part in it, for those that know you can never
believe you guilty of breach of friendship for tho' some
have grown cold to you I am sure the failing has bin on
on their side not yours.

I have not yet heard anybody speake of this booke but if
I doe you may be sure I will doe you justice. If the Queen
holds her resolution of going to Windsor a Thursday I
shall goe to Syon that day and shall be very glad to se
you there a Friday or any other day except Satterday. —
I am deare Madam, most faithfully, Yr. servant.

To My Lady Giffard at East Sheen.

Zjuly, 1709.

Madam, — I am sory you have had so much vexation
at that which cannot be helped 'tis no serprise to me to
find any of mankind in this age sacrificing their deceased
friends to their present pecuniary interest. This I p'sume
was the motive that induced Dr. Sw — to expose all your
brother's papers that would yield him money and if he
had exposed no more of them hee would have been lesse
blameable. I need not tell you what I have heard said
of them since the Dr. has prevented me by his Profield
(Preface ?) which mentions all the criticks that are, or can
be made on them and very fairely makes excuses for their
faults but none for his own for printing any of them
without the knowledge of his patrons. Indeed this his
behaviour is inexcusable and may be remembered longer
than any of his good qualities. I have no papers of my

DEATH OF SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE 249

own to leave behind me nor any confessions but I have
long since taken a resolution to leave my administrations
to a clergyman. By all I know of Mr. Hanbury he is no
changling since you left him he uses his lac'd coat in
despight of all his friends advice. I feare for my godson
also unless your comunyon makes him wise he send me
word he has no inclination to go to a ... ? than to
you but rather to go to you than stay at school but I
have ordered him now to a mathematical master to learn
navigation and hope to put him to see before Xmas.
Madam I wish you health and good weather to enjoy the
country ayre and hope to see you well. . . . — Your most
humble servant, J. Danvers.

Mr. Danvers writes cynically, yet he declares un-
compromisingly that Swift has sacrificed his sense
of honour to pecuniary advantages. If so, he was
penny wise and pound foolish, for he sacrificed also
his ambition for monetary considerations — or rather,
perhaps he did not look ahead and see the probable
result of his action. He possibly forgot the wheels
within wheels of the machinery of courts. Did he
think, I wonder, that Lady Giffard, thrown on her
own resources, was too ** inconsiderable a person " to
take into account ? Did he forget that she was hand
and glove with the Duchess of Somerset ? And did
it not occur to him that the duchess at that time
was in the height of favour with the queen, and that
he had insulted her some time previously beyond
possibility of forgiveness in the celebrated Windsor
prophecy — alluding to her personal appearance in a
vulgar and spiteful couplet, and referring to her second
marriage in terms of the grossest and most libellous
language ? He had asked for a prebend in Canterbury

2 I

250 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

and received a deanery in Ireland. Then he desired
a bishopric, but even his friend Mrs. Masham never
succeeded in wheedling one out of the malleable
queen in the later days when she deposed the
Duchess of Marlborough.

Was he so self-deceived as to expect that, even
if Anne could be induced to offer him preferment in
England, the outraged duchess would not have some-
thing to say to it ? Or had he so mean an opinion of
that lady as to think that she would stoop to the not
uncommon artifice of throwing a sop to a hungry dog
to stay his bark? If so, he was very far out in his
calculations. The Duchess of Somerset, even in con-
flict with the domineering Duchess of Marlborough,
never lost that dignity that was her natural heritage,
and in the eyes of all who knew her the vile accusa-
tions of the Windsor prophecy only recoiled on the
man who wrote them.

At this time Lady Giffard was much at court. We
have Swift's word for it in one of his letters to
Martha Dingley. If a bad lover. Swift was a good
hater, and he hated Lady Giffard and all the Temple
family, at that time, with all the impotent irritation
of a man who knows he has made an irretrievable
false step against the people he has injured thereby.

Stella's mother was with Lady Giffard in town
when Swift came to London in 1710, and he was
anxious to see her, but he had the sense (if not the
good taste) not to call there himself; and Mrs. Johnson,
longing to hear of her daughter from him, no doubt
made several attempts to see him.

Writing on 2 1 st September he said to Mrs. Dingley :
*' I heard to-day that a gentlewoman from Lady Giffard's

DEATH OF SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE 251

house had been at the Coffee House to inquire for
her. It was Stella's mother, I suppose. I shall send
her a penny post letter to-morrow, and shall try to see
her without hazarding seeing Lady Giffard."

A few days later, however, Jonathan plucked up
courage to call, having probably ascertained that her
ladyship was out! He writes to Stella and tells her
that he has seen her mother and made her give him
a bottle of parsley water, '' which I brought home in
my pocket and sealed and tied up in a paper and gave
it to Mr. Smyth, who goes to-morrow for Ireland."

The virtues of " the parsley and his kindes " were
much considered at that time. Gerarde, in his *' Herbal,"
gives a long list of its medicinal properties. As an
ointment it had '*a peculiar virtue against the bites
of venomous spiders ; " and among other uses, it was
good for sore throats, and, mixed with honey of roses
and bean flour,- it *' stayeth the weeping of the cut
or hurt sinues in simple members " ; and made into a
syrup was ''a lasting remedie for long, lasting agues,
whether they be tertian or quartan."

Facsimile f of Sir William " Temple's Writing.

PART X

1700. William III
LADY GIFFARD'S LETTERS TO LADY PORTLAND

"Letters are the very nerves and arteries of Friendship, the vital
elixir of love, which in case of distance and long absence would be in
hazard to languish and quite moulder away without them." — Miscellanea
Curiosa.

We have already perused several letters from Lady
Giffard to her niece, but those were addressed to
her as Lady Berkeley, while the first of these must
have been one of the earliest she received after her
marriage to Lord Portland in June 1700.

It is said that ** the best women have no histories."
It may be so, but it may also be that fate or chance,
whichever it may be, has not furnished them with an
historian. To be *' good " is not always to be uninterest-
ing ; and if Lady Portland took no leading part in the
life of courts, she must always have been on the stage,
so to speak, since her girlhood (when she was one of
Queen Mary's maids-of-honour) till her death in 1726,
when she was governess to the children of George II.
Yet her name is not written in ** tablets of gold," nor
even in printer's ink, in the world's history, and it is
only in private letters that she is mentioned with kind-
liness and appreciation, but never in connection with

any great or exciting event. No letters from her have

252

Sir Godfrey Kneller pmxit

Lady Portland

LETTERS TO LADY PORTLAND 253

come to us from her aunt. It is a pity, for there must
have been many. Lady Giffard seems to have been
a little careless about her correspondence, and she
alludes more than once to having had ** misfortunes"
with letters, and on one occasion came away from
Lord Berkeley's house leaving him with " the wrong
letters" from her niece! Knowing this dangerous
little propensity, possibly Lady Portland extorted a
promise that she would destroy her's when read — a
very sensible precaution, but one that if generally
carried out would often deprive posterity of important
knowledge and delight. Imagine even the twentieth
century without the Paston correspondence, Mme. de
S6vign6's piquante reflections, Dorothy Osborne's
bitter-sweet love-letters, Lord Chesterfield's pompous
advice, and a hundred other delightful volumes, speak-
ing out of the gloom of centuries the thoughts and
feelings that are common to us all to-day !

A portrait of Lady Portland hangs over the door
in the drawing-room at Petworth. It bears a strong
likeness to other members of the Temple family, and
really resembles Lady Giffard a good deal, but is
scarcely so good-looking. This may be due, however,
to the manner of dressing the hair, for the ladies of
Queen Anne's day had not the advantages of coiffure
that they had in the days of the " Merry Monarch,"
when curly locks, real or borrowed, clustered round
pretty faces in the most becoming fashion. Lady Port-
land's straight dark hair is raised over a cushion, and
it forms no becoming frame to the serious, kindly face
with rather commonplace features ; a good-humoured
pleasant countenance, revealing little of the character
behind it which, reading between the lines of her

254 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

aunt's letters, we know to have been strong, affec-
tionate, and reliable, a nature that others could lean
on. She has only been married about two months
to Lord Portland when Lady Giffard addresses the
following letter to her in Holland ; yet, with so much
of interest and importance to occupy her, she has
already found time to write several times in a week
to her aunt.

Lady Giffard is once again at Moor Park, gone
back there perhaps for the first time since Sir
William Temple's death. Lady Portland, who never
liked the place, dreaded the effect of it on her, and
tried hard to dissuade her from returning, but the
week she has spent there has passed better than
she expected, and she writes reassuringly. Her
friends, too,' do not intend to leave her long alone.

The occasion that called forth the sarcastic re-
marks of his friends about the Stadtholdership was
that of Lord Portland's somewhat unexpected accept-
ance of a difficult piece of diplomacy abroad, at the
earnest request of the king, who had never ceased
to protest his undying love and deep affection for the
man whose not unnatural jealousy he had aroused,
and whose sensibilities he had so severely wounded.
William, it will be remembered, was Stadtholder (or
Governor of the States) himself, and it was obviously
impossible for him to resign this great office even for
so true a Dutchman as Bentinck.

LETTERS TO LADY PORTLAND 255

LETTER I

Lady Giffard's Letters to Lady Portland,

To the Countess of Portland
at the Hague.

July 14, 1700.

You have made the best amends you can for the want
I find of your company here by this and others kinde
letters received from you last week which will always con-
tribute as much as anythinge can do towardes making me
happy and easy. I have not been alone here for a whole
week since I came and yet you not be in pain whenever
it happens to me againe, I will assure you it pass'd much
better in this place itself than I expected and made me
reflect often upon what I learnt early in my life that
custom will make everything easy. I am not likely I
believe to make the tryal any more till towards winter.
Ld. Berkeley came down last Wednesday and yr. Mother
and sister have soon promis'd me a visit you know our
life if you remember how it used to pass last summer,
only yt. I am alwayes alone when they are not with me
wch did not use to happen then, but since you tell me you
are so well I will complain of nothing while I have hopes
of seeing you again so soon as my Ld. Portland promis'd
but if you should serve me so basely (as they would make
me believe) and not come next winter is what I am not at
all prepared for, and therefore am inclined not to thinke
'tis so much believed here yt I was asked what the Deputy
Statholders place is worth to my Lord Portland that it
obliged him to leave England, I have asked him myself
last Post what I am to believe of it and therefore will leave
it for another thing I am to know of you, if there be any
trouble in yt I was told yt before my Lord Portland left
Windsor he sent to ye Princesse to know how many Bucks
he shd have orders to kill for her use this year and yt she
was angry to be asked and said she would order as many

2 56 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

as she had a mind too herselfe, this put me in mind of
what you told me of your taking leave there and my Ld
of the Prince and made me resolve to write you what I
heard of it. I did long to have a letter from you after the
King was landed and now I am writing this it is come and
mighty glad I am of the news it brings me of His Majesty's
Health which I hope ye air of Loo will quite recover him
for I assure you he was not at all well when he went over.
You know I would have all my friends make their court
there and therefore am very well pleased with what you
tell me of one of them but most of all with the hopes you
give me of seeing you att Windsor Parke before winter. I
finde my Lord Berkeley thinks of staying but till Michael-
mas and being so well at London I have a great deal of
reason to take it kindly they should do it soe long, I
intend not to move till you fetch me away and if yt is not
to be all the winter you don't know what you may have to
answer for.

Ye Duchess of Somerset and ye Duke is going to
Sion for a fortnight yt my Ld Northumberland may
breathe the aire of ye country which ye Doctors have
advised. I had noe time her being ill . . . writ for my
company both intended must be delay'd for some time
but we thinke to go to ye Grange some day this week
and then you shall have an account of both Master and
Mistress of whom I have heard nothing lately but kindly
condole with my Ld. Portland for the loss of his friend
my Ld. Privy Seal who by the character I have heard of
him think it ye greatest loss could happen to ye King and
ye Nation. I find you have ye account of my disappoint-
ment from (Hening ?) which I must owne to what I never
expected could happen to me but with luck and misfortune,
risk it — as would quite have made me insensible to it which
I will not pretend to so much phylosophy as to say I am
now but to beare it and everything as well as I can ; shall
be ye endeavour of my whole life. I give you and another
friend a great many thanks for your offer and concerne,

LETTERS TO LADY PORTLAND 257

but nothing can be done till ye King comes over and
before yt I hope you will both be here to advise me.

Did you hear Lord Hertford advised ye King to cutt of
general pensions, and that just before his journey my Ld.
(Steven ?) was struck out, and all his relations. I shall
envy you the journey to Rotterdam upon ye East India
ships coming in if you carry ye pockett full of money but
I try to think ye greatest fortune yt could befall anybody
but I believe it is all to be disposed of in commission and
I fancy you have quite spoyl'd ye design of getting yr
money for ye first by offering to pay for this note. I
have a greate minde to chide you for I am mighty enter-
tained with all you tell me from Holland wch will make
me troublesome with enquiring after some things I have
quite forgot, one is who this Princess of (Join ?) is, her
husband and mother-in-law, I knew very well, but must
owne to remember nothing of Mme. Hibrandst ? I fancy
by what she said to you she has as much forget me. 'Tis
melancholy to think of in the 22 years there should hardly
be any body besides Mme. Portrocks who you say never
very . . . left of all so many as I knew att ye Hague. I
believe you find the visitts differ in many things from
England where the men seldom appear and as I remember
we are sure to see them oftener then the women. This
puts me in remind of my Visitor my Lord Sunderland and
who has bin very ill with the gout first in his toe and then
in his stomach, they now fancy ye cholick but another of
ye dear friends of mine is well and more easy than ever
she was in her life, is to spend part of her summer as she
says herself with ye Bishop of Salisbury and y^ best is L. E.
denys ever to have said anything to Mrs. B. yt was to ye
disadvantage of Ld. P. she is to dine tomorrow with a
friend of yours in St. James Place where she has invited
herselfe, and be assured yt perhaps I may tell you more
off her if you do not spoyle my intelligence by taking
notice of this.

Yr Brother Jack left us last Friday and I am soon

2 K

258 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

promess'd a visitt from yr mother and sister Lucy. L.
and La. Anglesea have both come into ye country and if
as we ought to do I may believe in truth his Ldsp. is ye
worst husband in the world, I have asked friends oft
though they are not of that mind think it only his fondness
and jealousy together yt makes him so ill to her which you
know is not ye reason was given us of it. I know I shall
not often have her to invite and therefore have as you
remember of my time. Ld. and La. B. now look forward
to their being here I may send a Billet in one of their
paquets to my Ld. Portland to give him thanks for ye
kind one I received in yrs as good friends as you reckon
upon here the first thing he said coming from Church to-
day was how happy we all were yt you were not with us.
I We had a Parson who was as bad as reading Homer.
Ld. Berkeley sat in the corner where nobody saw him and
( was as bad as he used to be in my chamber and yr sister
' did nothing but jog me to look upon him and if you had
bin there we had certainly all sham'd ourselves, I doubt I
have done it already with this long letter wh. has hardly
left me room to bid dear La. Portland Adieu.

The Anglesea domestic affairs were exercising
the minds of society very much at this time. Lord
Anglesea was a middle-aged sailor with a not alto-
gether untarnished reputation. He had married a
much younger wife, who repented very bitterly of
her bargain. As Lady Giffard remarks, fondness and
jealousy are very ''ill" to live with, and it was not
long before his lady freed herself from her tiresome
lord. In February 1701 he was bound over to good
behaviour by the House of Lords, and on April 3rd
a bill was read the second time, for separating the
incompatible couple and obliging him to give her a
separate maintenance.

LETTERS TO LADY PORTLAND 259

Her niece's visit to Holland must have been a
great pleasure to Lady Giffard, who through her heard
all that was to be told about her old acquaintances.
Twenty-two years had, however, done their work, and
few were left even at the Hague that she remembered.

My Lord Northumberland, who is ordered into the
country, is the eldest son of the Duchess of Somerset.
He has been granted his grandfather's title.

The master and mistress of the Grange are the
Anthony Henleys already mentioned.

My Lord Privy Seal, who had just died, was
Ralph Montague, Lord Halifax.

The incoming of the East India ships at Rotter-
dam always created the greatest excitement among
the Dutch traders and (as Lady Giffard says) ** any one
else who had a pocketful of money." Lady Portland
was a rich woman, so probably many of the beautiful
cabinets and some of the rare china that adorns the
richly furnished rooms at Bulstrode were purchased by
her on this occasion ; for these great ships came laden
with all the wonders of the East — such silks and
embroideries, and inlaid furniture, and Oriental china
as Europe had never known before, which were a
revelation to lovers of the beautiful, as these ladies
were.

Lord Sunderland's illness was more serious than
Lady Giffard appeared to think, for he died on the
29th September of that year.

The "dear" mutual friend who was "more easy
than she ever was in her life" (Mrs. B.) was
Mrs. Berkeley, about to be married to the Bishop
of Salisbury. The formal announcement is apparently
not yet made, and Lady Giffard, longing to give the

26o LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

news to her niece, has to content herself with a
very broad hint and a promise of further information
after the dinner in St. James's Place. Lord E. is pro-
bably Lord Essex, and Lord P. of course Portland.

Mrs. Berkeley was the widow of Robert Berkeley
of Spetchley, a lady of ''most exemplary life and
conversation," and an ideal wife for a bishop of
Burnet's type ; and he, good man, was, we are told,
** so sensible of her virtues that, having lately lost his
wife of smallpox, he committed his young children
entirely to her care, and left her absolute mistress
of her own fortune." Considering that it was prin-
cipally on the children's account, his biographer says,
that he married her, this first proof of his regard is
not astonishing, but his allowing her full control of
her money is a more remarkable piece of generosity
on his part !

The little description of the service in church is
amusing. One can picture the party sitting round
in one of those high square pews we some of us
remember, all facing each other, most of them trying
not to smile as the illiterate parson stumbles over
his book ; while Lord Berkeley, safe in his corner,
does his best to disturb their piety, and the mis-
chievous girl nudges Lady Giffard to make her look
at him. Lady Portland, too, was evidently not an
adept at keeping her countenance when anything
comical occurred.

** If you had been there we should all have dis-
graced ourselves."

A few remarks a propos of these same high pews
are not out of place here, for Lady Giffard has intro-
duced the chief promoter of them. It was when

LETTERS TO LADY PORTLAND 261

Bishop Burnet was preceptor to the young Duke of
Gloucester, son of the Princess Anne, and her
almoner at St. James's, that he made himself respon-
sible for these "loose-boxes." He complained that
when he preached in the chapel her ladies did not
give him their undivided attention, but allowed their
eyes to rove in other directions ; so he prevailed
on the princess to have the pews raised so high
that the fair occupants could see no one but himself
over the top, while he thundered at them from the
pulpit. Such a line of action was not likely to
make the bishop very popular, nor to promote
peace and goodwill among his flock ; and one can
believe without much stretch of imagination that
the faces compulsorily raised to his did not express
that rapt attention and admiration for his discourses
he was possibly fatuous enough to expect.

Satirical Verses imputed to Lord Mordaunt.

When Burnet perceived that the beautiful Dames
Who flocked to the Chapel of holy St. James
On their lovers alone their kind looks did bestowe
And smiled not at him while he bellowed below,

To the Princess he went

With pious intent
This dangerous ill in the church to prevent.
" Oh ! Madam/' he said, " our religion is lost
If the Ladies thus ogle the Knights of the toast.

" Your Highness observes how I labour and sweat
Their affections to raise, their attention to get ;
And sure when I preach all the world will agree
That their eyes and their ears should be pointed at me

But now I can find

No beauty so kind
My parts to regard or my person to mind.
Nay, I scarce have the sight of one feminine face
But those of old Oxford or ugly Arglass.

262 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

" Those sorrowful matrons, with hearts full of ruth
Repent for the manifold sins of their youth ;
The rest with their tattle my harmony spoyle,
And Burlington, Anglesea, Kingston and Boyle

Their minds entertain

With fancies profane.
That not even in church their tongues they restrain
E'en Hemingham's shape their glances entice,
And, rather than me, will ogle the Vice ! ^

** These practices. Madam, my preaching disgrace.
Shall laymen enjoy the just rights of my place ?
Then all may lament my condition so hard
Who thrash in the pulpit without a reward.
Then pray condescend
Such disorders to end,
And to the ripe vineyard the labourers send
To build up the seats, that the beauties may see
The face of no brawling Pretender but me." -•

The Princess, by the man's importunity pest.
Though she laughed at his reasons, allowed his bequest ;
And now Briton's Nymphs in a Protestant reign
Are locked up at prayers like the Virgins in Spain.

But to return to the letters. Seven years have
elapsed since the writing of the last one, in 1700, which
alludes to the king's precarious state of health at Loo.
Portland remained his faithful friend until the king died
in 1702, and made way for the sister-in-law he disliked
so much. These next two letters were written at a time
of some interest : the Portlands were revisiting Holland
for the last time. True to his determination, after his
treatment by the English Government, the earl had
retired from public life and had IsLin perdu at Bulstrode,
but being asked by the States-General to receive the
King of Prussia, on the occasion of his visit to Hound-
stearyk in 1 707-8, he and Lady Portland went over to

* The Queen's Vice-Chamberlain.

LETTERS TO LADY PORTLAND 263

the Hague. The trip must have been spoilt for them
by the sad news of the illness and death of Lady
Berkeley, Lady Portland's youngest sister.

Lady Giffard writes from her house in Dover
Street, though she is evidently keeping up her estab-
lishment at Moor Park, which, however, contains but
few of those who were its inmates in the time of the
Temples. Jonathan Swift isjnqw Dean of St. Patrick's,
and poor pretty Hester Johnston and Martha Dingley
have gone off together to Ireland, where, it may be
remembered, Sir William left ** Hetty" a little pro-
perty near Dublin ; they are living decorously apart
from their erstwhile companion and teacher, but more
or less under his wing. Hester's mother appears to
be the only member of the household known to us
at this time.

Elizabeth Hammond has apparently taken Stella's
place with Lady Giffard, but is not likely to occupy it
long, for "Cousin Dingley" has come over the seas
again, for the fifth time, and persuaded her to marry
him. Lady Giffard would be certain to admire his
constancy, and in a subsequent letter she tells how she
has lent her house in town for the wedding, which,
however, she does not think necessary to grace with
her presence, owing perhaps to the recent death in the
family.

This marriage reminds us that it was while staying
with the Dingleys that Temple first met Dorothy
Osborne, and that the Parliamentary Colonel on that
occasion was a Hammond.

The following letter contains little but matters
concerning the Berkeley family, in which Lord and
Lady Portland take the deepest interest.

264 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

On the 8th July Lady Giffard mentions that the
young Lady Berkeley does not ** haste to get well" as
quickly as her friends wish, and on the i8th she writes
of her death as if it were no news to her sister. It must
have come sooner than they expected ; for, but ten days
earlier, Lady Giffard had spoken of making up the
number at Ombre at her house, which did not look as
if Lady Berkeley herself, or any one else, had thought
her really dying. The letters are naturally full of allu-
sions to their mutual sorrow, one of the many they
have shared together ; what story there is to tell, is best
read in them. We know all the sad details too well ;
they have been repeated, and will be repeated as long
as the world lasts. Lucy Temple seems to be looking
after the children for the time, and perhaps was with
her sister when she died, for Lady Giffard said, ** My
niece L. will have told you all you want to know."
So it was Lucy who sent the sad tidings on to the
Hague, whence the Portlands were already thinking
of returning.

Narcissus Lutterell chronicles their return on the
30th August, so it was not long before Lady Giffard
was relieved of her responsibility.

LETTER III

For the Countess of Portland
at ye Hague.

Dover St., fuly 18, 1707.

I wish I knew whether you care to hear from me, I am
very sure I never sat downe more unwillingly to write to
you, or anybody who knew so little where to begin.

I am sure you knowe the share I have always had in
all y' sufferings and my owne in this will enough expressQ

DaM pinxit

Lady Berkeley of Stratton (Frances Temple)

LETTERS TO LADY PORTLAND 265

how surely I mourne with you. I fancy my niece L. has
told you all you care to know and I should be wrong to
repeat anything y* could only serve to renew y' trouble.
I know y' thoughts and mine have agreed so well upon all
the cruel accidents of this kind we have gone through that
you will endeavour to turn them as I am trying to do
wholly to the care of the desolate family y* is left and such
is ye kindest way of remembering what we have lost.

My Ld. Berkeley is now with me and I am going to
them tonight with my Nephew and niece to leave him my
house very sorry that I cannot be in it with him but he
seems to like it much better than anything else y* was pro-
posed to him till he can return to his owne. Y* I was
glad it came into my head to make him ye offer.

I have bin little from him since I came to towne and
he seems never better pleased than in seeing any of her
friends. He wishes often for you as ye greatest support
and comfort he has to reckon upon, so I am sure you will
ever be to him and indeed nobody ever wanted it more.
He desired me to present his service to you but says 'tis
impossible for him to write. I need say nothing to ex-
presse how much he feels his loss to you, the thought of y* if
anything could, would make us forget our owne, but he is
truth, extreame reasonable and disposed intirely to what I
have begged of him, to turne his thoughts to ye businesse
and care of his family, and while you are away to find he
has a little helpe and y* I am fast growing so useless a
creature y* should thinke nothing too much y* is in my
power to serve him the difficulty is now to resolve whether
he shall remove his family into ye country whither he is
resolved to go and pass some days himself. In y* time I
hope he may have my Ld. Portland's advice and yrs. which
when you have thought all over as I have done I wish you
may not find so much on both sides as to make it as diffi-
cult to resolve. It wld. be a great deal to be out of this
melancholy scene in good air and to have the children out
of the Towne y* begins to grow very sickly ye greate want

2 L

266 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

is somebody in ye house to have some care of ye children
and be sometimes with him. If I were younger and had
better health I would offer myselfe and Bridget for the
little time he will be there this summer, however I will goe
to Moore Park at ye same time and be with them as often
as I can. I had great hopes of Mrs Garraway but y*
cannot be and Mrs Ann Berkley is in the country, can you
think of anybody else. I believe you will not dislike
what your sister has done with La^ Harriett who my Ld.
Berkeley expresst a great deal of concerne to leave and
would not have done upon any other sense but the
thoughts of her (going) to the Watters, will I believe hinder
y' sister's thoughts of the country this summer unless you
should advise it ; it is what we all want y' advice and I
hope I shall have it in my power to be of any service till
you come over. Mrs How is come and I have ye . . .
and 19 bottles of Spaw (?watter) a great many thanks and
one word I beg of your owne health to make use yourselfe
of what you can say so much of to others and to remem-
ber as we pray every day y* God's will may be done the
reasonable answer is to submit to it I never writ with
worse penne and paper nor had less time to amend it.
Adieu.

Mrs. Howe is probably the wife of John Grubham
Howe, the late Queen Mary's chamberlain, and the
lady mentioned in Lady Chesterfield's letter under her
maiden name of ** Scrope."

The Lady '* Henriette " or "Harriette" — as she
is indiscriminately called in Lady Giffard's letters as
well as at the extraordinary trial of Lord Grey of
Werke, in which she played the part of the ''leading
lady " — was a daughter of George, Earl of Berkeley ;
her mother being Elizabeth Massingberd, daughter
and co-heiress of the treasurer of the East India
Company.

LETTERS TO LADY PORTLAND 267

The suit of Lord Berkeley to regain possession of
his daughter from the "power and restraint" of Lord
Grey was a nine days' wonder in 1683. The story
was somewhat lacking in romance, but rich in comedy.
It reflected unusual discredit on the pair of wrong-
doers, and leaves one with the impression that Lord
Grey was weak and vain, and that Lady Harriette
was a minx.

Lord Grey, who was married to the Lady Mary
Berkeley, had the ''misfortune" to fall in love with
her sister, a precocious girl of eighteen.

The intrigue, which had been going on for some
time, was discovered by her sister Arabella, when
Harriette was found writing what she protested was
'* her accounts " but on examination was seen to be a
compromising letter to Lord Grey.

A harrowing interview took place between her
mother and her lover, and Lord Grey behaved in a
way that convinced Lady Berkeley of his contrition.
He declared his passion for Harriette had completely
mastered his discretion, acknowledged his unpardon-
able conduct, begged that his wife might be spared
the recital, and represented that if his mother-in-law
should forbid him the house it would cause people
to gossip ; but that as he was going into Sussex with
the Duke of Monmouth in a few days, he would
make a point of ** remaining in the country for six
months without attempting to see the Lady."

Lady Berkeley, anxious to hush up the matter,
allowed him to dine with the family on the eve of his
departure for Guildford.

The Sussex journey was, however, put off, and
Lord Grey announced it in a manly letter which

268 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

was perhaps honest, and which was produced at the
trial.

Lord Grey^s Letter to Lady Berkeley,

Madam, — After I had waited on your ladyship last
night Sir Thomas Armstrong came from the D. of M.
(Monmouth) to acquaint me that he could not possibly go
into Sussex, so that journey is at an end but yr. La^^
apprehensions of me I fear will continue therefore I send
this to assure you that my short stay in Town shall no
way disturb yr. La^P if I can contribute to your quiet by
avoiding all places where I may possibly see the Lady. I
hope yr. La^^ will remember the promise you made to
divert her and pardon me for minding you of it since it is
to no other end that I do so but that she may not suffer
on my account. I am sure if she doth not ill your
opinion she never shall any other way. I wish your
La^P all the ease that you can desire and more quiet
thought than I ever expect to have. — I am with great
devotion, G.

At last, however, he really departed, and Lady
Berkeley going to her daughter's room to comfort
her found her in a state of meekness and melancholy.
She protested that her sister Mary would never for-
give her, and begged hard that her ** sister Dursley "
(her brother Lord Dursley s wife), to whom she was
to be sent on a visit, should not be told of her mis-
doings. Such becoming humility touched poor Lady
Berkeley's too tender heart. She promised to keep the
secret, persuaded her that her sister would certainly
forgive her, and assured her of her own motherly affec-
tion and friendship. But Lady Harriette was a past
mistress of deceit. That night she left her father's
house — "left it, my wretched, unkind daughter," said
her poor mother, ** while I was in my sleep."

LETTERS TO LADY PORTLAND 269

For weeks nothing could be heard of her. Lord
Grey vowed she was not with him, that she was gone
" beyond the seas," that he knew where she was, but
he would not betray her. Lord Berkeley offered to
give ;^6ooo with her if a third party could be found
to marry her.

The trial, which was so distinctly a family inquiry
that one wonders it was not conducted in a more
private manner, was full of surprises. The case was
tried by Lord Chief Justice Sir Ed. Pemberton. Mr.
Justice Jeffries challenged Lord Grey for the Crown,
and Lord Justice Dolbin was on the other side.

The jury was composed of Surrey gentlemen —

Sir Marmaduke Gresham. Robert Gavel.

Sir Edward Bromfield. Edward Grey.

Sir Robert Knightley. Thomas Newton.

Sigismond Stiddness. John Halfrey.

Thomas Vincent. Tho. Burroughes.

Philip Rawleigh. John Pettyward.

— and the whole of the Berkeley family appeared as
witnesses, with the exception of Lord Dursley and the
Lady Grey.

Lady Berkeley gave her evidence with much
emotion. Lady Arabella with unconcerned disgust
and a loyal partisanship with the Lady Mary.
Lady Lucy showed a kindly desire to save her
sister, having followed Lord Grey to Guildford to
implore him unavailably to disclose the runaway's
whereabouts. Accusations of *' cruelty and im-
prisonment" were brought against Lady Berkeley —
stoutly defended by Lady Arabella, who maintained
that her mother had ''more kindness for Lady
Harriette than any of them."

Lord Grey pleaded that he had no share in her

270 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

flight, though several witnesses were brought to swear
that she was seen next morning in company with his
coachman and his wife in London ; and a clergyman
was witness of his having received an important letter
shortly after his arrival on the fateful evening at Up
Park, and that he had '' read it many times walking
up and down the hall in perturbation," and afterwards
going into the steward's room, he called his coachman
and gave him long and detailed orders.

Mr. Craven, a friend of Lord Grey's, drew, with
unconscious humour, a picture of his lordship's state
of mind on discovering Harriette's ill-placed affections
and his own weakness, expatiating on the preventing
of his passion which caused him to stay once for two
days locked up in her cupboard, with nothing to eat
but sweetmeats, and telling of his heroic efforts to
cure himself of his infatuation by ** making love to
two other ladies," but all to no purpose, the perfidious
Harriette remaining first favourite.

" Madam," he said to Lady Berkeley, when she
told him that if he remained in town he should see
her daughter no more, ** it is rude of me to say it to
you, but I must say it — give me my choice to be
drown'd or hang'd."

Whether she gave him the choice or not he
availed himself of neither, but lived to fight battles
of a sterner nature, and (I fear) to run away.

Evidence was then taken of various lodging-house-
keepers to which the young lady had been taken by
Lord Grey's coachman's wife. In order to prove her
identity, they had carried her first to one house, where,
being tired, she rested for a few hours, thence to a
second, where she remained. Then she was spirited

LETTERS TO LADY PORTLAND 271

off to a third, after which the clue was lost. One
lady, anxious to excuse herself for harbouring the
runaway, said she had no idea she was a lady of
quality, because "the sleeves of her shift were coarser
than the skirt." A good deal of interest centred
round other of her garments, and several people
swore to a many-coloured striped nightgown, and a
quilted petticoat in which she went away — when a
sensation was caused by the appearance of the young
lady herself in court. She denied that she had seen
Lord Grey ''but once in a hackney coach at a coffee-
house " since she left her father's house, though
several people bore witness to his having been at her
lodgings ** without a perruque" — a negative disguise
which the witnesses thought themselves very clever
to have pierced.

If it were not for subsequent events she would
appear to have perjured herself systematically from
a generous desire to screen her lover and spare the
sister she had wronged ; for she persisted in her denial
that her elopement was with Lord Grey, and was
censured by the court for her conduct. After a
good deal of cross-examination, the jury began to
withdraw, and Lord Berkeley broke in with : '* My
Lord Chief Justice, I desire that I may have my
daughter delivered to me again."

The Lord Chief Justice gave the order.

*' But," cried Lady Harriette, *' I will not go to
my father again."

Here was a surprise.

** My lord," said Mr. Justice Dolbin, *' she being
now in court we must now examine her. Are you
under any custody or restraint, madam ? "

272 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

" No, my lord, I am not."

** Then we cannot deny my Lord Berkeley the
custody of his daughter."

*' But, my lord, I am married."

Here was another bombshell.

" To whom ? "

'* To Mr. Turner."

Enter Mr. Turner — they all stare at him ; who in
the world is Mr. Turner? They ask him where he
lives. He answers vaguely: "Sometimes in town,
sometimes in the country."

Mr. Justice Dolbin makes a guess at his identity.
" He is, I believe, a son of Sir William Turner, the
advocate ; he is a little like him."

Sergeant Jeffries discharges another shell.

''But we shall prove that he was married before,
to a person who is now alive."

Turner denies it. " This is my wife whom I do
acknowledge. Here are witnesses, ready to prove it,
that were by."

But Lord Berkeley's patience is at an end.
** Truly," he says, ** as to that, I conceive this court,
though it be a great court, has not cognisance of
marriage, and though there be a pretence of mar-
riage, yet I know you will not determine it, how
ready soever he be to make it out with witnesses ;
but I desire she may be deliver'd up to me, her
father ; and let him take his remedy."

" I see no reason," says the Lord Chief Justice
tentatively, ** but my lord may take his daughter."

** My lord," says Mr. Justice Dolbin, ** we cannot
dispose of another man's wife. They say they are
married. We have nothing to do with it."

LETTERS TO LADY PORTLAND 273

** I will go with my husband," cries Lady Harriette,
true to her role in the comedy.

" Hussy ! " cries her father, ** you shall go with

me.

** Now that the lady is here," says Lord Grey's
counsel politely, " I conclude my Lord Grey may
be discharged from his imprisonment." (He had
already spent fourteen days in close confinement.)

Here was a terrible poser for the judges ! No-
body felt quite certain what to say, and no doubt
there was a great shaking of wigs over it. Up
popped Jeffries, always ready to bully: "No, my
lord, we pray he may continue in custody."

The Lord Chief Justice and the Attorney-General
argued the point.

Mr. Justice Dolbin was not sure but that they had
gone " further than ordinary " in committing him at
all, he being a peer.

The Lord Chief Justice thought they were bound
to bail him, which they accordingly did. The matter
ended, Lord Berkeley returned to his monotone.

" My lord, I desire I may have my daughter."

Lord Chief Justice : ** My lord, we do not hinder
you."

Lady Harriette : " I will go with my husband."

*' Then all who are my friends, seize her, I
charge you ! "

Then there was a great shuffling and scuffling ;
words were high and swords were drawn, and the
comedy might have ended in tragedy but for the
Lord Chief Justice's wisdom. He ordered the
tipstaff to carry the lady over to the Kings
Bench. Mr. Turner requested to go too. They

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274 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

left the court together, and passed the night in the
Marshal sea.

The morning after the trial, the jury (who had
given a private verdict overnight) found that all the
defendants were guilty, except the lodging-house
keeper ; which verdict being recorded, was commended
by the court and King's Counsel, but in the next
vacation (it being the last day of the term) **the
matter was confirmed, and so no judgment was ever
prayed or entered upon record." But Mr. Attorney-
General, before the next Hilary term, entered a nolle
prosequi as to all defendants.

So ended this ridiculous trial, which reads like a
libretto of Gilbert's, for at the end of it nobody seemed
to be much the wiser. There was a great deal of fuss
about a worthless little wretch of a girl, and after all
this trouble and turmoil the father did not get his
daughter ; Turner turned out a fraud, and probably
did not get a penny of the ;^6ooo her father told
Lord Grey he would give with her if a third party
could be found to marry her ; and the lady herself did
not even get a husband ! The one who scored highest
was the principal offender, ** the prisoner at the bar,"
who came off a great deal better than he deserved,
in spite of his fortnight's imprisonment, which doubt-
less completely cured him of his infatuation.

Lady Harriette, whose doings caused a nine days'
talk in the town, is known no more to fame. I can
find no mention of her in any memoirs of the time that
I have read. She only reappears, twenty years later,
in Lady Gififard's letter to Lady Portland. Her father
has been dead some years, and probably her mother
too, for she is apparently under the care or wardship

LETTERS TO LADY PORTLAND 275

of Lord Berkeley of Stratton, the death of whose
wife has thrown the whole family into a state of
bewilderment, and hurried arrangements are being
made for everybody.

Lady Giffard goes to Sheen and leaves her London
house to him. " Mrs. Garraway " is beseeched to take
the children into the country, Lord Berkeley himself
half promising to go down to them soon ; and every-
thing else being arranged, ** Lady Harriette " presents
a difficulty — first one thing is arranged for her and
then another. Lady Giffard hopes Lady Portland
will not mind the change they have made, *' that her
sister Lucy (Temple) should take charge of her ; " and
a few days later she writes to say that she is " glad
to find my Lady Harriette is to go to Lady Biron,
for it is the best place for her in all the town."
(Lady Byron was one of Lord Portland's daughters.)
The difficulty in disposing of Lady Harriette at the
move was because she was very ill, and a fortnight
later she died at Tunbridge Wells. That she is
called by her maiden name of Berkeley is proof
positive that the pretended marriage with Mr. Turner
was part of the plot, and he was probably employed
by the defendant for his part in the comedy.

The Lady Harriette Berkeley, who a week later
is mentioned by Luttrell as " being married to Lord
Germaine," was a daughter of the present earl, who
was Lord Dursley at the time of the trial, and the two
ladies were aunt and niece.

276 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

LETTER III

For the Countess of Portland
at the Hague.

Moore Park, August ye ^rd.

I could not be so good as my word on Friday have
been hurried hither by my nephew's journey into York-
shire sooner than I cared to come or to leave my friends
att London. I hope nothing will change the resolution
I left my Lord Berkeley in of coming to Henley Park
next Friday and bringing my niece Harriett with him
or I shd. have had noe comfort in the thoughts of him
coming down I fancy will be the last time he will see
Henley Park wch. he seems to thinke so desolate a place
to live in with so lonely a family in wch. I cannot but
agree with him though I do not know what change it
would make if it were possible for him to keep the com-
pany he brings down with him wch he seems to like
better than every other. My niece before that was pro-
posed had thoughts of taking Miss Anne and her nurse
while my Ld. was in the Country wch would have been
very well liked but don't mention anything write but to
myselfe where your letter will be safe. You need have
no reserve, I found my Lord Berkeley had a good com-
pany last time I was there considering the emptiness of
the Town and Mrs Caraway is seldom from him all I
could perceive him at all revived was with Mr. Berkeley's
coming ; who you know is the best child in the world
and I was very sorry that he and Mr. William were to
leave him see soon. I found Moore Parke what I am
always pleased to see and the care they have to keep
it in order looks as if they grew kind to it, I find ye boy
what I like very well, so of ye other I can say nothing
but y' she grows without improving any other way wh.
will make it every day more melancholy. I have now
a letter from Ld. Berkeley that tells me La. Harriette

Sir Godfrey Kneller pinxit

Lucy Temple

LETTERS TO LADY PORTLAND 277

is now with La. Biron wh. is the best place she can be
in att London. I hope that nothing will alter my niece
Lucy's coming with my Ld. Berkeley. I don't doubt
but there are duch letters before this, but I have 3
days to expect whatever comes with them yt everybody
is now soe impatient off, pray God send me y* of y' being
well I am soe much more myselfe of late it makes me in
pain for you y* must often now afford me two or three
lines since I am less in the way of hearing of you from
anybody else. My nephew and niece have been with
Mrs How at ye Holt who I fancy I shall se soon they
say Mrs How has grown very fat I wish you may not
thinke more of your friends soe when we meet, I hope ye
newes is true from ye Hague the Yacht is to go for
you the middle of this month you were never so much
wished for nor wanted by yrs.

John and Betty have now got two children. The
boy, William, went to Eton, and was living when
Lady Giffard died, but he died in his parents' life-
time. The girl, who was named Henriette, only
lived to be thirteen or fourteen years of age, and
was a sad sufferer from her babyhood with heart
disease of the most painful kind.

Lady Giffard is evidently growing stout in her
advancing years, and it is perhaps comforting to find
that Mrs. Howe is keeping her in countenance.

The names of the seven children that were left
motherless by the death of Lady Berkeley, as given
by Burke in his " Extinct Peerages of Great Britain
and Ireland," are : — John, William, Charles, Jane,
Frances-Sophia, Barbara, Anne.

John, who is called ''Mr. Berkeley," and is **as
good a child as can be," succeeded his father in 1740
as fifth baron. He became Captain of the Yeomen

278 LADY GIFFARD^S CORRESPONDENCE

of the Guard to George II., a Privy Councillor,
and Captain of a band of Gentlemen Pensioners ;
he was subsequently Constable of the Tower of
London, and Lord-Lieuteuant of the Tower Hamlets.
When these letters were written he and his little
brother William were at Eton. The latter followed
the naval traditions of the family; he died on board
his ship the Tiger, on his voyage to Barbadoes, in
1733. The title became extinct on the death of John
in 1773, he being without children, and the other
brother, Charles — who had married Frances, daughter
of Colonel West — having died in 1765, leaving only
two daughters.

Jane (named, no doubt, after Lady Portland, whose
first name was Jane), died unmarried, and Frances
married first Lord Byron, and then Sir Thomas Hay
of Alderston, N.B.

Barbara married Sir John Trevanian, a Cornish
squire, and little *' Miss Anne" married, in 1726,
James Cocks, Esq., of Reigate, and died less than
two years later, leaving a baby son.

PART XI

1715. George I

FAMILY NEWS

" Of all the pretty arts in which our writers excel, there is not any
that is more to be recommended than the skill of transition from one
subject to another." — Satirical Essay in " The Tatler^"* No. 67.

Another silence of seven years is broken for us by

a letter to Mrs. John Temple of Moor Park, written

by Lady Giffard from Sheen. Many family events

have taken place in the interval. The last letter

was to Lady Portland in 1707; this one is dated

July 23, 1715. *'Betty,"and John Temple, and **Doll,"

and Nicholas Bacon, have been several years married ;

Henry Temple has made a success of his profession

of the law, and is on the eve of the peerage his

grandfather and uncle ought to have received ; Lord

Berkeley has become a Privy Councillor to Queen

Anne, and Jonathan Swift, the ex-secretary, one of

the best-known men in England. He was convulsing

his friends, disgusting his acquaintances, and insulting

his enemies with his coarse and witty lampoons ; he

was clamouring for preferment at one moment, and

attacking in daring and virulent tirades people who

barred his way at another. He had risen for ever

out of his obscurity, and now carried himself with all

the insolence of a vulgar mind towards his superiors,

into whose society his first patron had introduced him '^CuAl

— maintaining, by his extraordinary versatility and '

«79

28o LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

the unscrupulous exercise of his unrivalled wit, a
position of considerable importance among them.

His " Last Years of Queen Anne " and *' Gulliver's
Travels " were yet unwritten, but the ** Tale of a Tub "
and ** The Battle of the Books " had already won him
deathless fame. The historic quarrel about the ** third
part" of Temple's ** Memoirs" had not been made up,
if indeed it ever was, and Lady Giffard must have
looked on with amazement at his rapid rise.

Nearly all the writers of the foregoing letters
were dead. Lord Sunderland had succumbed to the
gout ; his mother, Lady Sunderland (Sacharissa), was
sleeping her last sleep beside her young husband,
Robert Spencer, who had been laid to rest forty
years before in Brington Church ; Martha Dingley
and Hetty Johnson had practically passed out of Lady
Giffard's life ; but Lady Portland was always there,
and a second generation had arisen to interest her.
John and Betty occupied a very warm corner in her
heart.

Lady Giffard's Letter to Mrs, Temple,

I am very glad More Parke has been revived with so
good company but one must expect no sattisfaction in this
world without some alloy yours I doubt has had a sensible
one with yr news of yr sister's being come to Towne with
so ill health which I shall thinke without a miracle, in
a close lodging & this season one could not hope yr
Doctor's skill great enough to relieve her, I cannot tell
you I have seen her & am in doubt whether you may
not have bin tempted to make another journey tho' you
found soe little reason to like yr last which I am ashamed
of myselfe at this distance she thought of soe ineasy & have

LETTER TO MRS. JOHN TEMPLE 281

had other hindrances this week, but have sent today to
know when she goes out of Towne since she would not
accept my invitation to change ye scene a little and of
passing some time here with me wh. is her natural air,
before she returned to a place in wh. she has thought
herself dyeing almost ever since she came into it. You
hear how Dr. Mead has declared against Dr. Ratliff' s (?)
advice of her goeing to ye Bath soe yt I don't know from
what we are left in hope of any releif which I finde you
agree with me in having expected from that.

I think all diseases look desperate at this time and
wish there may not be one in yr sister as hopeless as
any other wish yt may be passing too much of my time,
only with ye entertainment of my own thoughts, but feare
tis, and conclude as I think very reasonably from all ye
disorders one heares of that I shall never bee quiet agin,
and if I may be allowed to say what so many conclude tis ye
pursuit of so many to ye scaffold yt has brought it upon us.

The Duke of Ormond has at last thought fit to dis-
appear, which his friends wish had bin sooner. He went
from ye Lodge where he had bin all ye summer last
Wednesday alone in a hackney coach not followed by any
of his servants nor knewe that he was gone till two days
after the writts against him were to be sent up next day but
the House will now find other imployment of wh. ye papers
and His Maj®^^'^^ speech will give you an account and we
here of ye Pretender in one day in England and another
in Scotland and talked of they say as familiarly at London
as King William was before he came.

This subject is not very entertaining we shall leave it
to tell you Mrs. More (?) has prevailed with her husband
to let her passe so many days here once in three yeares
shee could tell me no news from Moreparke which would
have made her more welcome. I wish I had better to send
you yt I hope to hear from tomorrow. I made my niece
Temple your reproaches who said yt she had writ yt day
and is always full of company. I have not yt complaint

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282 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

nor thank God any other yt is not much lesse then I have
reason to expect, but being at soe much greater distance
than usual from all my friends and particularly those at
More Parke to whom I am ever a most affectionate faith-
ful servant.

For Mrs. Temple,

at More Parke,
near Farnham,
Surrey.

Lady Giffard's idea of an *' entertaining " subject
to write about is not quite ours. Mrs. More's move-
ments do not thrill us with the same excitement as do
those of the unfortunate '* Chevalier " ; and, however
welcome the interruption may have been to Mrs.
Temple, the abrupt transition from history to domes-
ticity is to us a little disappointing.

It is to '' Betty Temple" of Moor Park that this
letter is addressed, and it is therefore Dorothy Bacon
(the " little Doll who sets us all to rights" of old days)
who is so ill that her friends hardly dare hope that the
doctors can do much good. However, the miracle
which Lady Giffard so little expected was successfully
worked, for Mrs. Bacon lived many years after, long
enough to see her son Basil succeed her sister Betty
at Moor Park, and inherit many of the Temple
treasures — among them the cabinet containing these
papers — not omitting this very letter, which speaks of
her as one who has little chance of recovery ! One
wonders which of the two great doctors' advice was
followed, and if she went to **ye Bath," or if she got
well without it.

The two doctors. Mead and Ratcliffe, who dis-
agreed in their advice to Mrs. Nicholas Bacon, were
accounted the greatest physicians of the day. Doctor

LETTER TO MRS. JOHN TEMPLE 283

Ratcliffe's reputation was not altogether an enviable
one. He had attended the death-beds of all the
royalties since the Revolution, and only a few months
previously he had for the second time in his life been
the subject of unpleasant demonstrations from the
populace. Owing to being indisposed himself, he had
been unable to attend the death-bed of the late queen ;
and so great was the grief of people that Ratcliffe
dared not put his head outside his door for fear of
being lynched, for the popular belief was that he
"could have saved good Queen Anne," but would
not. Ratcliffe was one of those unpleasant people
who never shrink from uttering brutal truths, and
scorn to soften any blow they may have to inflict —
hence the secret alike of his unpopularity and his
strength. When William of Orange, who had been
more or less infirm from his childhood, asked the
doctor anxiously what he thought of his case,
Ratcliffe, with cruel bluntness, replied, "That I
would not have your Majesty's two legs for your
three kingdoms ! " For this unfeeling speech Rat-
cliffe received his conge — a punishment which was
little or none to him, for he was a Jacobite.

When the little Duke of Gloucester was dying, he
diagnosed the poor child's malady as scarlet fever,
and the ignorant household physician had been bleed-
ing him. " Who bled him ? " asked Ratcliffe in his
rough way. The wretched man was obliged to
confess his error. ** Then you have destroyed him ;
you may now finish him, Til not prescribe," was the
great doctor's entirely selfish and thoroughly charac-
teristic reply. He would not risk his own reputation
on a forlorn hope, which might have done good and

284 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

could have done no harm. For this he was heartily
abused by the people, who clung to the only scion of
the reigning house, and they were not very far wrong
perhaps in believing that, though no doubt he knew
the child was past human aid before he saw him,
this ardent Jacobite was not altogether grieved to see
him go.

When Queen Anne was requested to appoint him
her private physician, inspired with a lively remem-
brance, no doubt, of past amenities she answered
short and decidedly, ** No ! Ratcliffe shall never send
me word again when I am ill that my ailments are
only vappers ! "

One can easily believe that poor Mrs. Nicholas
Bacon did not get much encouragement when she
consulted him, and was very glad to see another
doctor.

The "elegant Doctor Mead," as Samuel Garth
called him, was an equally keen politician on the
opposite side. He it was who, when the queen was
in extremis, suggested that no time should be lost to
secure the throne to the House of Hanover, and urged
that a diagnosis of her symptoms should be sent to
the court physician there, that the Elector might be
prepared to come over to England as soon as the
news of her death should reach him. Soon after this
the queen rallied, and it is said that Mead could not
keep his disappointment out of his face.

He also attended the Duke of Marlborough in his
last illness, and report said it required a brave man
to do that, for the fierce Sarah was like a tigress
defending her cubs. The story went that Mead
having said or done something that displeased her.

LETTER TO MRS. JOHN TEMPLE 285

she flew after him down the grand staircase, not only
threatening loudly to pull off his wig, but having
every intention of doing so if he had not been too
nimble for her.

We may certainly credit Mrs. Bacon's friends with
a very honest desire to get at the bottom of her
trouble, and give her every chance of recovery.
When they consulted two such rivals as Ratcliffe and
Mead, it was probably almost a point of conscience
on the part of one to take a diametrically opposite
view from the other, and the poor lady must have
found herself in a quandary as to whose advice to go
by. One said, " Go to the Bath," and the other said,
*' Don't." Perhaps after all she solved the question
by changing her mind and accepting Lady Giffard's
invitation to go to Sheen, and see what her native or
" natural " air would do for her.

Dorothy Temple, it will be remembered, was the
younger of the two little daughters of poor Jack
Temple. She married Nicholas Bacon of Shrubland,
in the county of Suffolk, a grandson of the Lord
Keeper, Nicholas Bacon. His mother was Lady
Catherine Montague, youngest daughter of the first
Lord Sandwich, who died an heroic death on his
burning ship after the battle of Southwold Bay in
1672. Lady Catherine, after her husband's death in
1657, had married Mr. Bacon's private chaplain,
Rev. Baltashazza Guardemau, a French Protestant
refugee from Poitiers. A portrait of Mr. Guardemau
still hangs in the library of the vicarage of Codden-
ham, of which village he was vicar, and where he
and Lady Catherine, and practically all the numerous
Bacons of Shrubland, lie buried. Shrubland had

286 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

been Lyttell property, and had come into the Bacon
family through the marriage of the grandfather of
** Doll's" husband (to distinguish him from the other
Nicholases) with the heiress of the Lyttells. It is
situated in one of the prettiest parts of Suffolk, and
is some five or six miles from Ipswich.

The fine white house, the Italian tower of which
rises out of the trees above its beautiful terraced
gardens, can be seen from the Great Eastern Rail-
way on the right hand side of the down-line from
Ipswich to Norwich, half-way between the stations of
Claydon and Needham Market; but this is not the
house **Doir' lived in, but the **new" Hall, which
was built by her third son, John, when he came into
the property, and was sold at his death in 1788 by his
brother Nicholas to G. Middleton, Esq. From the
Middletons it came to the Brokes, one of the oldest
Suffolk families, and it is now the property of Lady
de Saumarez, one of the heiresses of that family.

The old Hall was as unlike the present one as it is
possible to imagine. Not nearly so imposing, it must
have been infinitely more picturesque, but its long,
low rooms were possibly dark and not very cheerful ;
and it is sad to think poor Doll ** thought herself
dying " ever since she had been there, but comforting
to remember she had passed only three or four years
at most at the time alluded to. She had often been
ill and delicate, and had lately lost her first boy.

Perhaps, too, she had not yet got acclimatised, and
missed the change and movement of the life at Sheen,
and pined for the gay days in the house in Pall Mall,
and so found Shrubland dull and out of the world.
But if that was so, Betty was perhaps feeling much

lifci'^

LETTER TO MRS. JOHN TEMPLE 287

the same at Moor Park. Both sisters must have had
a varied experience in childhood in their frequent flit-
tings from London to Moor Park, from Moor Park to
Sheen ; and both had married men whose happiness
lay in a quiet country life. Doll had many chil-
dren but the same cloud lay over both families ; one
of Betty's daughters was most cruelly afflicted, and
several of DolPs children were crooked and deranged
at some period of their lives.

That Dorothy's husband was good to her is seen
by the context of her will made in 1758 (forty-one
years after her illness mentioned in Lady Giffard's
letter). "As I cannot do enough for Mr. Bacon,"
she writes in a great sprawling, untidy, but not un-
interesting hand, **I desire that he should keep all
these things for his life if he likes, and after, he
would leave them according to my directions."

Besides the chapel there still exist some few re-
mains of the original Hall, enough to mark the place
where it once stood, and the date (1637) is still visible
on the ruined gable-end of that part of it to the
extreme left of the picture reproduced here.

The east window of Coddenham Church was
once filled with stained glass, bearing many '* coats,"
that was taken from the long corridor of the ** old
Hall " when it was pulled down — partly, tradition
says, to save the window-tax, and partly because
Repton pronounced red-brick houses to be '* blots on
the landscape."

In the year 17 15 Dorothy had been four years
married and had had three children. John, who seems
to have been her special favourite, was then three
months old. She had lost her first baby, who was

288 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

christened Nicholas. The second child was named
Temple ; he lived to man's estate, but died in his
parents' lifetime. Five more sons and three daughters
were born after this. William, born in 17 16, died as
an infant ; so also did Lionel, born in 1725. Basil,
born in 1722, was chosen by the Temples of Moor Park,
whose own children had died in their lifetime, as their
heir, and he therefore became possessed of much of the
Temple property in Co. Cork, Dublin and Wicklow, as
well as the Moor Park estate. It was he who set
about rebuilding the house there, but he died before
it was finished in 1776, and his brother John com-
pleted it. Phyllis, born 1729, lived to be nine years
old. The eldest girl, Dorothy, died rather early in
life, and her mother in her will left to her '* dear son
John " a ring with ** his excellent sister Dorothy's
hair" in it. Catherine and Mary lived together in
London to a considerable age, and when over sixty
years old Mary contracted a marriage with a certain
Captain Johnston, who received with her an ample
fortune, and with other things all the Dutch Embassy
plate, and the Temple jewels, as well as some pictures
and fine suits of armour that used to stand in the
old Hall at Shrubland.

Nicholas, born 1732, outlived all his brothers and
sisters except Mary. He was left with neither parents,
nor uncles, nor aunts, nor first cousins ; few people
were more alone in the world than Dorothy Bacon's
youngest son Nicholas. At the death of his brother
John in 1788, he inherited the whole of the Shrubland
estates, and all the lands in Coddenham and Barham.
He had married in 1 780 Anna Maria Browne, daughter
of John Browne, Esquire, of Tunstall and Ipswich.

LETTER TO MRS. JOHN TEMPLE 289

After five years of happiness she died and left no
child. Nicholas never married again. He sold the
Shrubland estate, and built the present vicarage at
Coddenham — a large red-brick house with one wing,
the main part being three storeys, and a basement as
well. He brought most of the pictures and valuables
from Shrubland, and lived there for the rest of his life.
His kinsman, John Longe, had married his wife's
sister, and Nicholas was deeply attached to them both.
Had they had any children at the time of John Bacon's
death, Nicholas would not have sold Shrubland ; but
they, like him, had been married several years, and
there seemed no prospect of a family. No sooner,
however, was the deed done, than the first of five
children arrived on the scene. Nicholas promptly
made his will in favour of John Longe (who was the
son of the rector of Spixworth in Norfolk, and first
cousin of the squire there), and left him the livings of
Coddenham, Crowfield, and Barham, and all his lands
in those two parishes, with the house and all his
personalty. John Longe found himself so over-housed
that he lowered the vicarage by one storey, and made
it a more convenient size.

Only a few lines of the letter changes the scene
from the Bacons' country life at Shrubland to the
storm -tossed existence of the courtiers.

The Duke of Ormond who has ** thought fit to dis-
appear," was the son of the gallant Lord Ossory, who
died in his father's lifetime, and on the subject of
whose education his grandfather, the ** Great Duke,"
wrote to Sir William Temple for advice. His career
was a chequered one, and he lived to an immense age,
dying at Madrid in 1745 at the age of ninety-two.

2 o

290 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

He was one of the first of the English noblemen to
attach himself to William of Orange, who gave him the
Garter when he was elevated to the throne. He was
constituted Lord High Constable of England for the
coronation day of William and Mary, and attended
William at the battle of the Boyne. Three years later
at Loudon he had his horse killed under him, and
received several wounds, when he was taken prisoner
by the French and carried to Namur.

The name of Ormond was one to conjure with,
and when Anne became queen she made him com-
mander-in-chief of the land forces sent against France
and Spain, an expedition which covered him with
honour. He destroyed the Spanish galleons and the
French fleet in Vigo harbour, and received the thanks
of Parliament. In 17 12 he reached the summit of his
success. He was appointed to the Duke of Marl-
borough's post as captain-general and commander-in-
chief of her Majesty's land forces in Great Britain.

Then, with the new dynasty, came the inevitable
change. He had been one of the Privy Council
who signed the proclamation declaiming George L
as King of England. The king, however, received
him graciously enough on his arrival, but a few
days later Ormond found himself removed from his
great offices, and within a very short time impeached
in Parliament for ** high crimes and misdemeanours,"
on account of which he retired into France. This
happened in the summer of 17 15, and thus gives
us the date of Lady Giffard's letter. He evidently
did not cross the water any too soon! For **the
writts," she tells us, **were to be sent up next day."
No sooner had he reached France than he was

LETTER TO MRS. JOHN TEMPLE 291

attainted, his estates forfeited, and all his honours
extinguished. In 172 1 an Act was passed enabling
his brother, Lord Arran, to purchase the escheated
property, which he did, but the dukedom was not
revived. Ormond was only fifty-five when he left
England, so he lived out a long exile of thirty-five
years. His first wife was Anna Hyde, a daughter
of Lord Rochester ; she died less than a year after
her marriage, with her infant child. His second
wife was Mary, Lady Somerset, the Duke of Beau-
fort's daughter ; their only child, Mary, married Lord
Ashburnham.

We have now come to the first year of the reign
of George L Lady Giffard had lived to see the last
of the Stuarts. As a child of eleven she must have
been thrilled with horror at the murder of King
Charles ; she had rejoiced at the Restoration ;
mourned with her brother, no doubt, over Charles
H.'s delinquencies; sympathised with the sorrows of
King James, who had shown such friendship for the
family ; shared perhaps Lady Temple's affection for
Queen Mary ; and, under the wing of the Duchess
of Somerset, had been frequently at the court of
Anne.

All this was over now. Lady Giffard's visits to
Richmond and Kensington were a thing of the past.
'* Though you are such a near neighbour to the
Court," wrote the Duchess of Somerset to her in
that same year, ** I do not think you see much of it."
One may perhaps read between the lines here. ** And
neither do I," the duchess might have added, for
her daughter's husband. Sir William Wyndham, was
then in the Tower on suspicion of favouring the

292 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

invasion of the " Pretender." The Duke of Somerset
had been deprived of the Mastership of the Horse on
account of his passionate resentment of the treatment
of his son-in-law, and the duchess must have felt
considerably more than she said. Besides all this,
there were circumstances connected with the House
of Hanover that did not recommend her to the new
king. It will be remembered that the brother of the
man whom his queen loved had been the lover of
the Lady Elizabeth Percy. The Konigsmarks had
been too intimately associated with the duchess for
her to be cordially received at the court of King
George ; she possibly knew far too much ! The
disgraced Lord Oxford had been escorted to the
Tower by a great concourse of people, who openly
expressed their disapproval of the act, and those who
had kept the kings first English birthday in the
customary way had been insulted by the populace ;
and the next day happening to be the anniversary
of the Restoration, all London had been ablaze with
bonfires and illuminations, and the streets re-echoed
with tumultuous mirth. Discontent was gaining
ground every day, and, as Lady Giffard says, there
seemed little chance of things ever being quiet again ;
while the Duchess of Somerset says it was dangerous
to be abroad after dark, and the ''disorders" alluded
to were serious riots resulting from the variety
of parties at that time existing, with whom the
Hanoverian king was by no means popular. Had
the details of his private life been better known he
had assuredly been less so, for John Bull's sense of
justice would have revolted at the thought of the sad
and lonely prisoner of Zell, the ** uncrowned queen,"

LETTER TO MRS. JOHN TEMPLE 293

who, for supposed infidelity to a man who was never
faithful to her, languished for thirty years in rigid
confinement in her lonely castle of Ahlden, tortured
with a cruel uncertainty as to the fate of her lover.
That lover had long lain murdered under the stones
at the foot of a staircase leading to her private
apartments at Herrenhausen, down which she had
unwittingly passed many times before her final re-
moval from the court.

Puritan England might — and would — have con-
demned the unhappy girl, for she was little more.
But it would also have execrated the refinement of
cruelty, and the long-drawn-out system of revenge
conceived and carried out, by a man whose paltry
intelligence and sordid mind could make no conces-
sions to the thoughtless youth of his giddy young
wife. She had fallen a victim to the dangerous
fascinations of the gallant and handsome Count
Konigsmark, whose fatal passion for her cost him
his life and her liberty.

But fortunately the English public knew little or
nothing of all this, or the '* disorders" might have
been attended with more serious consequences. As
it was, things were bad enough at the moment when
Lady Giffard wrote her letter. She is very wary in
what she says, and makes no criticism beyond gently
suggesting that the "pursuing of so many to the
scaffold is the cause of the riots." The executions
she alludes to were those of the Jacobite Earls of
Derwent water, Carn worth, and Wintoune, the Lords
Widdrington, Kenmuir, and Nairne. Every effort
was made to obtain mercy for them ; but George
showed the brutish stubbornness which he had

294 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

exhibited towards his wife, and would listen neither to
petitions presented in Parliament nor to the frantic
appeals of their wives, and Derwentwater and Ken-
muir went to their death on Tower Hill, as many
brave men had done before them. Derwentwater was
an amiable youth, brave, open, generous, hospitable,
and humane. His fate drew tears from the spec-
tators, and was the cause of great grief and misery
in his own country. "He gave bread to multitudes
of people he employed on his estate ; the poor, the
widow, and the orphan rejoiced in his bounty."
Kenmuir was a calm, sensible, resolute man resigned
to his fate.

"My niece Temple" (Betty's mother), ''who is
always full of company," had perhaps the taste of her
ancestors for society ; and though she never certainly
held a salon in London in any way comparable with
the reunions of the Hotel Rambouillet at Paris, yet
she possibly attracted to her house many interesting
people. This is the last mention we have of her in
any of the letters, through which she has passed as
a mere shadow, with nothing real about her but her
relationship to the Temple family.

The name of Mrs. More, whose " niggardly
husband " will only spare her to Lady Giffard for
a paltry three days' visit in three years, only occurs
twice in the course of this memoir — once in this letter
and once in Lady Giffard's will.

DR. YOUNG'S LETTERS 295

DR. YOUNG'S LETTERS

A GENTLEMAN OF "BIRTH, BREEDING, AND LEARNING,"
QUALIFICATIONS FOR A FELLOWSHIP AT ALL SOULS.

1719-20. George I

The writer of the following three letters was Dr.
Edward Young, ** an ingenious poet and divine." He
was the son of the good and learned Dean of Salisbury,
once chaplain to Lord Ossory and then to Queen
Mary, who in either of these appointments would
have been certain to have made acquaintance with the
Temples, and in writing to Lady Giffard his son was
probably addressing an old family friend.

Edward the younger was born in 1684, educated
at Winchester and Oxford, going first to New College,
then to Christchurch as a gentleman-commoner, till in
1 708 Archbishop Tennison put him into a law fellow-
ship at All Souls ; but though bred to the law he
never practised it, the ''turn of his mind leading him
to divinity." Later in life he took holy orders, and was
appointed chaplain to George IL in 1728. Two years
later he left his college to marry Lady Betty Lee,
a sister of Lord Lichfield, and a *Mady of excellent
endowment and great sweetness of temper."

Lady Betty had been married before to her cousin
Colonel Lee, a descendant of brave old Sir Henry Lee,
the champion of beauty to Queen Elizabeth, whose
portrait, with his faithful mastiff, hung, and doubt-
jess still hangs, in Lady Betty's old home at Ditchley
in Oxfordshire. The mastiff is the hero of one of the
perennial dog stories that never pall. A plot was
afoot in Sir Henry's household to rob and assassinate

296 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

the master. On the night fixed for the crime, for no
apparent reason the mastiff insisted on accompany-
ing Sir Henry upstairs, a thing he had never done
before, as he was no favourite and his owner seldom
noticed him. He crept under the bed and refused to
be driven away by the valet, so his master let him
stay. In the dead of night the would-be assassin
came in, and was instantly seized by the amateur
detective and held with a powerful grip till he con-
fessed his intention. In the corner of the picture are
inscribed some lines, beginning ** More faithful than
favoured," and ending with this couplet :

" But in my dog whereof I made no store
I find more love than where I trusted more."

Dr. Young's name is familiar to many of us as the
writer of a ponderous volume of verse entitled *' Night
Thoughts." Few of us have read it, and still fewer
would desire to participate in his nocturnal musings.

On their marriage he and his wife, with her
daughter, whom Young learned to love as if she were
his own, retired to the college living of Welwyn in
Hertfordshire. It was not till after her death in 1741
that Dr. Young began writing in the melancholy and
morbid strain of his principal work. He had the grief,
which he took very deeply to heart, of losing his wife,
his son-in-law, and his stepdaughter in the short
space of a year. This triple bereavement suggested
the ''Night Thoughts," which were the result of ten
years' mourning. It is dedicated to '* Lorenzo, a man
of pleasure," in whom contemporaries thought they
recognised his scapegrace son Frederick, who was
dismissed from Baliol College for misdemeanours.
This so displeased his father, that though he left

DR. YOUNG'S LETTERS 297

him his whole fortune at his death, he would never
again see him in his lifetime.

The full meaning of this poem, as of most of the
others, is lost to us in the present day through the
regrettable absence of a key. Close students of con-
temporary history might possibly discover the identity
of many well-known people hidden under classical
names, but this is beyond the province and powers of
the editor of this book. The story of Lady Jane Grey
is told in " The Force of Religion." His satires hit
hard on all sides, and show some traces of humour, in
which his writings (unlike most of those of his time)
are generally lacking. He lashes the idlers and
sycophants of the age without mercy. The following
quotation shows us his object in writing them.
Apostrophising his muse in the conventional fashion
of the day, he says :

" Though bold these truths, thou Muse, with truths like these
, Wilt none offend, whom 'tis a praise to please.

Let others flatter to be flatter'd ; thou,

Like just tribunals^ bend an awful brow.

How terrible it were to common-sense

To write a Satire which gave none offence !

And, since from life I take the draughts you see,

If men dislike them, do they censure me ?

The fool and knave 'tis glorious to offend.

And God-like an attempt the world to mend ;

The world, where lucky throws to blockheads fall,

Knaves know the game, and honest men pay all."

But to return to ''Night Thoughts." In Night HL,
all through the wearisome verbosity which sometimes
obscures the sense, runs the pathetic history of his
stepdaughter's death. The pulse of the poet's heart
throbs painfully, and under the name of Narcissa he
tells us the incredible story of her burial.

2 p

298 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

Soon after Lady Betty died and was laid to rest in
Welwyn Church, this only daughter, who had lately lost
her husband almost immediately after her marriage,
fell sick of an illness which was probably consumption.
Her distressed stepfather carried her off to Mont-
pelier, where he hoped the softer climate would cure
her ; but an unusually cold season did her more harm
than good, and she died in spite of all his care.

"... With haste, parental haste,
I flew, I snatch'd her from the rigid North,
Her native bed, on which bleak Boreas blew,
And bore her nearer to the sun ; the sun
(As if the sun could envy) checkt his beam,
Deny'd his wonted succour, or with more
Regret beheld her drooping, than the bells
Of lilies ; fairest hlies not so fair."

With an inhumanity and cruelty incredible to us
in these more enlightened days, the Church of Rome
denied this dead girl, the child of a gallant British
officer and stepdaughter of an eminent English
churchman. Christian burial on the plea of her being
a heretic. The case was a desperate one, and the
doctor could not bear to lay his darling in uncon-
secrated ground. He conceived the extraordinary
idea, which, with the assistance of his servant under
cover of night he successfully carried out, of circum-
venting his persecutors and burying her in hallowed
ground.

*' With pious sacrilege a grave I stole ;
With impious piety that grave I wrong'd ;
Short in my duty ; coward in my grief !
More like her murderer than friend, I crept.
With soft suspended step ; and, muffled deep
In midnight darkness, whisper d my last sigh.
I whisper'd what should echo through their realms ;

DR. YOUNG'S LETTERS 299

Nor writ her name, whose tomb should pierce the skies.

Presumptuous lear ! How durst I dread her foes,

While nature's loudest dictates I obey'd ?

Pardon necessity, blest shade ! Of grief

And indignation rival bursts I pour'd;

Half execration mingled with my pray'r.

Kindled at man, whilst I his God ador'd ;

Sore grudg'd the savage land her sacred dust ;

Stampt the curst soil ; and with humanity

(Deny'd Narcissa) wish'd them all a grave."

In spite of their bigotry Narcissa's death raised a
storm of sympathy and regret in the French watering-
place, that had meted out such hard measure to the
fair young Englishwoman. Over her sad fate even
strangers wept —

"... their eyes let fall
In human tears, strange tears that trickled down ;
While nature melted, superstition reigned.
That mourned the dead and yet denied a grave —
Denied the charity of dust to spread o'er dust,
A charity their dogs enjoy."

What wonder that in this last culminating horror
the poor man's spirit broke down, and caused him to
give way to the morbid melancholy that pervades his
greatest work ! Yet with surprising energy, after he
was eighty years of age, he wrote his ** Conjectures on
Original Composition," of which his critics said, ** We
are not surprised so much that it had faults as how it
should come to have so many beauties." The work,
they thought, was his ** brightening before death " —
his swan song we should call it — and they lament
that he did not stop there and hesitate to expose his
" taper burning in its socket" by a poem called '* Resig-
nation," published shortly before his death. This took
place in his parsonage house, where for some years he
had lived in great retirement, with only a housekeeper

300 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

to look after him. He ** passed as silent to the grave
as piety or modesty could wish," at a time when religi-
ous observances had declined almost to the point of
being discontinued altogether ; and he who ventured
so much to give his step-daughter decent burial, was
himself carried to the grave with less respect and
consideration than he would have accorded to the
meanest of his parishioners.

He had been **so long remembered that he was
forgotten at the end." His reputation as a poet had
waned, his writings were out of date, and before he
died he ordered all his manuscripts to be burned.
Perhaps in this holocaust the **Cabola" may have
perished too. (See page 304.)

His wit was ** poignant, but too restrained"; and
Swift said of him "that as a satirist he should have
been more merry or more severe."

The parson of Welwyn had a care for the amuse-
ments of his parishioners as well as the cure of their
souls, and he instituted an assembly in the place and a
bowling green, where he would sometimes have a
game with the villagers in the summer evenings.

He loved his garden too, but even there the curi-
ous detachment of his mind is seen. He had, for
instance, made an alcove with a picture of a bench so
painted that at a distance it seemed a real one, but
upon a nearer approach the deception was perceived
and this motto appeared : *' Invisibilia non decipiunt "
— '*the things unseen do not deceive us."

His epigram, spoken extemporarily upon Voltaire,
was this :

" Thou art so witty, profligate, and thin,
Thou seem'st a Milton with his death and sin."

DR. YOUNG'S LETTERS 301

At that period Voltaire's teaching was rampant, and
atheism spreading far and wide. Young specially re-
sented his attack on Milton, whose works he greatly
admired.

On April 12, 1765, his lonely old age came to an
end. So careless had the ungrateful people grown
in his parish, that the church bell did not toll for their
rector till his coffin was brought out of the house; and
though he was both founder and endower of a charity
school there, neither the master nor the children were
present at his funeral, though he was followed, at his
own express wish, by some of the poorest of his flock.

They laid him where one feels he would have
wished to have been laid — beside his wife, under the
Holy Table, which is one of the most curious in the
kingdom, and for which Lady Betty with her own hand
had embroidered the beautiful altar-cloth.

But all these tragedies happened long after he
wrote to Lady Giffard, and the letters we have before
us were written from All Souls, presumably in 17 19
and 1720, when he was still leading a comfortable
bachelor life in his college rooms. He was tutoring the
young Lord Burghley, referred to in one of his letters,
whose susceptible disposition caused his tutor some
anxious moments. The letters are dated with the
days of the month only, but the allusion to the youth-
ful nobleman's love affair dates them approximately.
John, Lord Burghley, was the eldest son of the sixth
Earl of Exeter, whom he succeeded in 1721, and
grandson of the Lord Burghley of whom Lady Sunder-
land wrote in 1668 that *'he would as soon marry
Lady Rich as any one else, but would rather marry no
one." He died unmarried in 1722 ; so it is certain

302 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

that if Dr. Young did not succeed in curing his infatua-
tion for an undesirable young lady, he at least tided
him successfully over his calf-love without his pupil
committing himself to matrimony. One can only hope
that the " palpitation " did not terminate his existence,
for sightseeing does not always cure the heartache,
any more than a course of Virgil, as recommended by
Lady Giffard to her bereaved niece ; and one cannot
but think that a little judicious mixing in the society
of ladies *' of his own quality " would have been more
efficacious in effacing the too tender an impression of
the other. (See page 304.)

A later Lord of Burghley brought a humble bride
to " Burleigh House by Stamford Town " — a beautiful
village girl, who died of too much grandeur, oppressed

" With the burden of an honour
Unto which she was not born."

Her pathetic history is the subject of one of the
loveliest of Tennyson's English idylls. She found a
palace where she looked for a cottage. Burghley
House, in all its magnificence, may well have crushed
the village maid, with its Grinling Gibbons doors
and overmantels, its gorgeous painted ceilings, its
services of gold and silver, its glorious pictures and
priceless china, its tapestry-hung chambers and silken
damask curtains, and sofas ; its spacious rooms and
long corridors, peopled with nude goddesses and cupids,
and all its bewildering medley of pagan and Christian
art. To all this splendour Dr. Young's charge was
heir. Assuredly it behoved Dr. Young to see that
no unworthy mistress was brought to reign there
through any lack of vigilance on his part ; and he was
probably right in his judgment th^t the possession of

DR. YOUNG'S LETTERS 303

the underbred fair lady would eventually cause a
wretchedness more eternal than the loss of her.

All Souls,

Ian. 17.

Madam, — I had long since answered y^ Favour of
y' last had I not proposed waiting on y' Lyship when I
received it in a few days which Design Accidents drove
of till last Week at which time I endeavoured to pay my
Respects to y' Ladyship but not so fortunate as to find
you at Home nor to have time enough in Town to make
a second Visit leaving it early the next morning. I en-
deavoured likewise to wait on Mr. Temple in St. James
Square but He was out of town on an occasion which 1
am sorry for.

Rutland w^ your Ladyship is pleased to enquire after
is I believe a perfect creature of Mr. Banks and I followed
him implicitly in it, but if the case is as you represent it
if the Earl married y® Widow of S' P. Sidney & she had
that mark of distinction from y^ Queen which you mention
it will do infinitely better for my purpose. I wish Madam
you would refer me to any authority in Print or Manu-
scipt to confirm it.

I have Madam been so hurried of late as men often
are with doing of nothing that I have not found time to
transcribe the second act ; but as soon as it is Fair it shall
wait upon you for after y' Present of a first Act all the
others are a debt. Essex's mistress being S' P^* Widdow
Walsinghams Daughter abd being termed by y® Queen her
Egyptian are all potentialities of beautiful consequence to
my Design. I thank y"^ La^'^ for the Information and am
with ye greatest and truest respect — Madame y' Ladyships
Most faithfull Humble Servt. E. Young.

All Souls, Oxon.,

Feb.y^eth, '

Madam, — It is ye pecuHar happiness of some Per-
sons that whatever they do is most Agreeable ; of w^ y

304 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

Ladyship gave me a very extraordinary Instance in y' last,
where you make even the shortening of y' letter to me an
obliging action by the kind motive You assign for y"" doing
it and if y' Ladyship can make a thing of that nature
Agreeable I know nothing that you cannot make to me.

I am now Madam thoroughly satisfied of y® truth of
y' Ladyships information with relation to y^ Egyptian, and
I hope in some measure to deserve the favour you have
done me in acquainting me with it by making some
tolerable use of it, w^ without ye least shadow of a com-
pliment is the most direct way I know of to shew my
gratitude for such a favour to such a nature as yours.

I have lately Madam been a little alarmed h^ B y

having seen a Lady in this place who has given him the
palpitations of the Heart. I design therefore soon to leave
this Place and if possible the thoughts of y® fair Lady
behind us Though his Lordship is at present so true a
Lover as to vow wretchedness for Life, the wretchedness
either of Despair or Possession for she is not of his
quaUty, but this is a secret. To amuse his L^ship for y^
last ten days I have had Him about y® neighbouring
country to see sights, but I was not able to find any Pros-
pect or Building sufficiently beautiful to Rival Mrs.

in his thoughts. — I am Honoured Madam, with y^ greatest
truth and Respect y^ L^ships most obedient & Humb.
Ser^ E. Y.

All Souls,

Nov. 22.

Madam, — This letter is not to acknowledge the Receipt
of y® Cabola I have not yet had time to look into it, being
very warmly engaged in a Pursuit which probably Mr. Cary
has or will mention to y' Ladyship. I give you joy of y'^
winter quarters, I hope the Town will pay for the loss of
sweet air and quiet you left behind at Sheen. I will now
dress my Heroe by that assistance you have been pleased
to send me, so that I shall look on Him (if he deserves

DR. YOUNG'S LETTERS 305

that honour) as partly yours. This I assure your Ladyship
without a compliment I am much better pleased with him
than I was before since I find I have you for a rival in my
esteem of him. I think him the truest Englishman I ever
knew, for he is bold, generous, and indiscreet. I beg my
humble respects to all your Ladyships Relations w^ I have
the Honour of knowing in Town. I have allmost finished
the Second Act which shall wait on you. — I am Madam
with All Respect Y^ Ladyships much obliged & ever
Dutiful Humble Sert. E. YouNG.

To the Honble.
Lady Giffard,

at her house in Dover Street,
London.

The three letters addressed by Dr. Young to Lady
Gififard have reference to a play he was writing. Un-
fortunately they are evidently not the first of the corre-
spondence, but are in answer to some information she
has already given him relating to the marriage of
Lord Essex (Queen Elizabeth's favourite) with Frances
Walsingham, Sir Philip Sidney's widow.

To learn that Lady Giffard ''gave him his first
act," and was of so much help to him in the second —
so much so that he considered the play was ** partly
her's " — and yet to be unable to trace that second act
in his published works, is most tantalising. It was
possibly never finished, or else burnt with the MSS.
he destroyed at Welwyn before he died.

The Earl of Rutland is one of the principal char-
acters in Banks' play "The Maid's Tragedy," and is
shown by him to be a very noble gentleman. He
married Sir Philip Sidney's only daughter — not his
widow ; and the context of the letter leads one to sup-
pose that Young must have confused the mother and

2Q

3o6 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

daughter and their relations with the two earls, for
Essex certainly married Sir Philip's widow. He and
Sir John Temple had been with Sidney when he died
after Zutphen. Four years later, finding " no one
could console the widow but himself," he was ** dis-
interested " enough to marry her — though secretly, for
he had not the courage to avow his marriage to Queen
Elizabeth. A more dangerous proceeding could not
have been conceived, for he as well as all the court
knew that the queen was in love with him, and to
have married without her knowledge was to insult the
woman as well as the queen. Young calls him " in-
discreet" in this matter. He was certainly culpably
indiscreet, particularly as Lady Walsingham, with due
respect for her daughter's reputation, insisted on her
remaining under her roof and being called by the
servants "my Lady Essex."

The jealous fury of the injured queen when the
marriage was discovered, with Essex's subsequent dis-
grace and execution, made one of the darkest stains
on the history of her reign. It is always hard to
forgive deceit in those we love — so hard that Eliza-
beth found it impossible until it was too late. The
treachery of the Countess of Salisbury, who withheld
the ring that would have saved his life, was a blow
from which she never recovered. It is pitiable to
reflect that thirteen years later, while the now broken
and remorseful Elizabeth, grown old and failing, was
sitting in the dark shedding impotent tears for her
dead favourite, his widow was ready to console herself
for a third time with the handsome young Lord Clan-
ricarde. His resemblance to Essex had made Eliza-
beth's anxious councillors bring him prominently into

DR. YOUNG'S LETTERS 307

her notice, with the hope of giving her another favourite
who might coax her back to something like cheerful-
ness. But their kind intentions failed, and they only-
succeeded in finding a third husband for Lady Essex,
whom everybody pitied, while her lord's real mourner,
old and inconsolable, sank slowly into her grave.

It was a version of this tale that Dr. Young was
apparently engaged on at this time. The third letter,
which is written many months later, shows that Lady
Giffard had been proved correct in all her assertions.
Her corrections had possibly upset all Young had
previously written, and perhaps prevented his play
ever seeing the light.

She has perhaps sent him the ** Cabala" with the
idea of provoking a criticism, or at least an opinion
on it ; for, though not unreasonably superstitious, the
Temples were interested in the mystic sciences. Sir
William once made an exhaustive inquiry on witches,
and had some respect for the science of astrology.
** Cabala" was a mysterious kind of science believed
by the Jews to have been given to them by Divine
revelation, and ** cabalists," by a curious system of
cipher, pretended to discover hidden meanings in the
scriptures, and, by the use of occult knowledge thus
obtained, to foretell the future. It is scarcely likely,
at the age Lady Giffard was now, that she intended
pursuing the study on her own account ; but she pos-
sibly wished for the opinion of a man of recognised
ability, like the learned Fellow of All Souls, on the
value and genuineness of its theories, which the poor
man possibly had neither time nor inclination to
investigate.

PART XII

THE DUCHESS OF SOMERSET AND HER
LETTERS

1719-1722

" A faithful friend is a strong defence, and he that hath found such
an one hath found a treasure.

" Forsake not an old friend, for the new is not comparable to the
old. A new friend is like wine — when it is old you shall drink it with
pleasure." — Miscellanea ,

The history of this pleasant - looking, fair -haired
duchess, to whom some of her contemporaries deny
the grace of beauty, is one of the most romantic of
the many romantic histories of her time. Before she
was sixteen she had been twice married and widowed.
Murder, and intrigue, and plotting was from first
to last to hang round this gentle, kindly, home-
loving woman, who, as a child, was the greatest
and most sought-after heiress in the kingdom, and
who eventually married handsome Charles Seymour,
*' the proud Duke " of Somerset, and became the
friend and favourite of Queen Anne, and her
Mistress of the Robes and Groom of the Stole, to
the bitter chagrin of the Duchess of Marlborough,
whom she succeeded.

Her history is so well known that one feels one
must almost apologise for repeating it here. The
Lady Elizabeth Joceline was the heiress of all the
wealth of the Percys. Her father, the eleventh Duke
of Northumberland, died, leaving his little girl to

represent this great and noble family. She was

308

Sir Peter Lely pinxit

DUCHESS OF SOMERSET'S LETTERS 309

first married as a child of ten or eleven years to
Henry, Lord Ogle, son of the Duke of Newcastle,
but she never left her grandmother's house for him.
She was barely fourteen when her young husband
died, and the child-widow was brought to Whitehall
in her weeds. A melancholy little figure this slim,
half-grown girl must have looked in that gay court
with its beautiful, wanton, and fascinating women in all
their blaze of jewels and lace! The little black-robed
figure moving amongst them must have struck an
inharmonious note, and one that did not escape the
king's notice. He called her ''la triste hdritiere!'
One may easily guess there were not wanting suitors,
who were only waiting till she took off her weeds
to ask for her hand ; and the matter was duly con-
sidered by her guardians. This time Mr. Thomas
Thynne of Longleate, in Northamptonshire (** Tom of
ten thousand," as he was called), was chosen for her
husband. " Lady Ogle, 'tis said," wrote the Countess
of Manchester to Lord Hatton on August 2, 1681,
**will certainly marrie Mr. Thynne, if it be not
already done."

The re-marriage of so great an heiress naturally
made some noise in the world. Sir Charles Lyttleton,
writing to the same Lord Hatton on October nth,
says (alluding to another matter), *' Thom. Thinne
told me, who by ye ways lyes there " (at Richmond),
"to be within sent of Lady Ogle, for he does not
visit her yet nor is like to do till she comes hither"
(probably to Sion House), *' which will be the last of
this month when her mourning is out. Ye next day
sheele open her doors to all pretenders, though I think
'tis scarce to be doubted but that she has entertained

310 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

Mr. Thin's addresses by 3rd. hands, and is too farr
engaged to him to receive any others."

The marriage must have taken place very soon
after this, for a month later there is a fiasco and a
denouement. Tom Thynne is threatened with a
prosecution by Lady Trevor, the widow of Sir
John Trevor, an ex- Secretary of State, who declares
he is already married to her daughter. The king,
roused to an honest indignation on Lady Ogle's
behalf, protests that she has been meanly and basely
betrayed by her friends, who had deceived her (why,
one cannot imagine) about his age and his fortune,
and Lady Ogle suddenly vanishes from the scene.

** My Lady Ogle went up yesterday with her
grandmother" (the Countess of Northumberland),
wrote Sir Charles again on November loth, "and
there slipt from her, and 'tis not yet known who
is gone with her." It was to Brussels that the little
lady first went, and there she spent a great deal of
time with the Temples. Lady Temple, whose posi-
tion as wife of the English ambassador enabled her
to do so, took the unfortunate girl under her pro-
tection ; and if they had not already met before, it
was perhaps then that her lifelong friendship began
with Lady Giffard.

At the Hanoverian court she made a less desirable
acquaintance in the person of Count Charles Konigs-
mark, a younger brother of Count Philip, whose fatal
passion for the unhappy Princess Sophia Dorothea of
Zell has been told in all its tragic details by Mr.
Wilkins, in his ** Love of an Uncrowned Queen."
The story of Count Charles is less romantic, for it
lacks the glamour of love ; it is but the history of a

DUCHESS OF SOMERSET'S LETTERS 311

clumsy plot and a dastardly murder. It is impossible
to believe that any suspicion of his wicked scheme
ever entered the mind of the innocent girl to gain
whom it was concocted, though evil tongues were
not wanting who pretended that it was done with
her sanction. Swift's scurrilous pen was employed
thirty years after in raking up the tale, with the
hope that some of the pitch might stick. But the
life of the Duchess of Somerset, lived in the full
glare of the light that beat on her almost royal
state, and her unbroken friendship with the Thynne
family, gave the lie to his base insinuations better
than any words could do ; and he found himself
hoist with his own petard, for it was said that it was
this insolent lampoon that lost him Winchester.

The insulting lines in which he attacked the
duchess occur in the widely known ''Windsor
Prophecy," in which he sought to smirch the repu-
tations of the Tory ladies of the court in a string
of ill-conditioned verses, in the form of an address
to the lately widowed queen. The attack on the
duchess runs thus —

" England, dear England ! if I understand,
Beware of carrots from Northumberland ;
Carrots sown Thinne a deeper root may get
If so be they are in summer set.
Their Cummings mark thou, for I have been told
They Assassine when young and prison when old.
Root out those carrots. Oh Thou whose name
Spelled backwards and forwards is always the same.

And keep close to thee always that name

That spelled backwards and forwards is nearly the same.

And England, wouldst thou be happy still,

Bury those carrots under a Hill."

The play of words in the first eight lines of this

312 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

witty doggerel is so plain that he who runs may read,
but the last two are not quite so clear. They refer to
Mrs. Masham, the queen's favourite Woman of the
Bedchamber, whose maiden name was Hill, and she
was a particular friend of Swift's, who would gladly
have seen her in the Duchess of Somerset's place.

Briefly, the story of the Konigsmark episode is
this. Count Charles, enamoured either of the lady
herself or of the beaux yeux de sa cassette, conceived
the idea of marrying her, and came to England
disguised under the assumed name of Carlo Cuski,
with the object of getting rid of the man who stood
in the way of his desire. He arrived in London in
the following February, accompanied by a certain
Captain Vratz, concealed himself in a lodging in the
Haymarket while Vratz looked about him and gained
information respecting the habits and hours of
*' Esquire Thynne " and engaged the services of a
man named Stern. Finding the place "too public,"
he removed to Rupert Street, where he assumed a
further disguise, and was known ** by no name but
that of the stranger." Stern having discovered
among the aliens (who, even then, took refuge in the
slums of London) a needy Pole who was willing to
play the assassin for a consideration, the count made
another move to St. Martin's Lane, where, under the
plea of illness, he remained indoors, visited only by
his brother's tutor and a doctor, who "physicked
him." It was to this lodging that Vratz brought the
news that the deed was done. When all London was
ringing next morning with the tale of the murder, and
Vratz, Stern, and Borowski had been taken prisoners,
Konigsmark, disguised as a merchant, was hiding at

DUCHESS OF SOMERSET'S LETTERS 313

Rotherhithe in the house of a Swede named Raynes,
waiting for an opportunity of getting out of England.
This, however, he did not succeed in doing, and was
brought back to London and put on his trial, at which
the murdered man's footman gave a graphic descrip-
tion of the attack. " My master, Mr. Thynne," he
said, " was coming up St. James' Street from my Lady
Northumberland's, and I had a flambeau in my hand,
and was going before the coach (it was about eight
o'clock on a Sunday evening, the nth or 12th of
February), when, at the lower end of St. Alban's
Street, I heard a blunderbuss go off, and turning my
face saw a great smoke, and heard my master cry out
he was murdered, and I saw three horsemen riding
away on the right side of the coach. I pursued them
and cried out * Murder ! ' I ran to the upper end of the
Haymarket, and turning back again, my master was
got into the house, and I understood he was wounded,
which is all I know."

A ridiculously transparent story was trumped up
for the defence, to the effect that Vratz was seeking an
honourable encounter with Mr. Thynne, on account of
some objectionable remarks he had made about the
count's (Konigsmark) person and his horse in his
hearing some eight months before, and that Vratz
would have challenged him to a duel, but that he
feared that the '* Squire " would not think him a
gentleman of sufficiently high degree to cross swords
with, and that therefore he had recourse to stratagem.
He had intended to accost him on his descent from
his coach at his own door, and to force a quarrel
on him and kill him " fairly," but Borowski rushed
the situation by firing into the coach.

2 R

314 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

Hanson, the aforementioned tutor, in his evi-
dence said that the count had told him in ** familiar
discourse " that Thynne had spoken abusive language
of him, and that he fain would know what would be
the consequence if he called Thynne to account ; and
in case he decided to *' meddle " with the gentleman,
would the laws of England be ** contrary to him " in
the hopes or pretensions he might have to my Lady
Ogle? At his request Hanson consulted on the sub-
ject the Swedish envoy, who replied that the count
would have but ill living in England if he meddled
with Mr. Thynne, but what the law was he could
not answer.

The whole of the evidence of this trial, given
for the most part by people whose purpose was to
get the guilty man off, was of the most damning
character, and could have left no shadow of doubt
on the minds of every one present that Konigsmark
was the instigator, and that the wretched men who
were in his pay did but carry out his directions.
Yet, by the grossest miscarriage of justice (flagrant
even for the corrupt days of Judge Jeffreys), he was
acquitted, while his accomplices, as well as the actual
murderer, were condemned to death.

Konigsmark's own account of the reason of his
presence in England was, that he had come over
with a design to raise a regiment here to serve the
King of England against the French, and that the
Pole was taken into his service in order that he might
" dress the horses " in the German way, and that he
had previously sent over a thousand pistoles to buy
horses.

Either the thousand pistoles were not sufficient, or

DUCHESS OF SOMERSET'S LETTERS 315

horses were very difficult to procure, for apparently
the only one he had bought was the little bay horse
on which the coachman of the murdered man noticed
him riding away.

Owing to the various nationalities of the accused,
this travesty of a trial was carried on alternately in
French, English, and Dutch, interpreters translating
evidence for the benefit of those, who did not under-
stand, and doing so doubtless with a freedom that was
not conducive to a clear understanding of the progress
of the case. At one period some very disquieting
questions were put to the count. He evaded them
by a speech of the most unblushing flattery. Appeal-
ing to the Puritanical vanity of his judges, he said
that he thought it a ** great happiness to appear before
a Protestant judicature, being himself a Protestant."
^' He says," proceeded his interpreter, Sir Nathaniel
Johnson, *' that his forefathers were soldiers under
Gustav Adolphus, and that it has been the honour
of himself and his family that they had always been
ready to venture their lives for the Protestant religion ;
and that if any of his former actions can give the least
suspicion of his being guilty of this or any foul act, he
is very willing to lay down his life and be cut off
immediately ; that he had been very willing to serve
the King of England, and that he loves the English
nation, and that he brought his brother into England
against the will of his relations that he might be
brought up in the Protestant religion, and to show his
inclinations to the English nation."

All this was greedily swallowed by the jury, who
were half Dutch and half English ; and on their re-
turn within half-an-hour they brought in the "three

3i6 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

principals guilty" and the count not guilty. But the
court ordered to take a recognisance of the count, with
three sureties, to appear the next sessions and answer
any appeal if brought.

The loyalty of these ruffians to Konigsmark is
very remarkable. Not one of the three appears to
have attempted in any way to shield himself by in-
culpating the count.

Sir Charles Lyttleton, who went to see Vratz
executed, wrote : ** I saw the execution yesterday of
the German captain," &c. ** The captain died very
boldly and unconcerned ; neither did he, as I hear,
before nor then, own that ye Count was privy to ye
murder. The other two shewed very penitent, and 'tis
thought could discover nothing of ye Count's practices."

There is something very fine in this, the devotion
of these men to the unworthy scion of a great house,
and their care for his honour, even in the hour of their
own death occasioned by his wicked plot.

The nobility of Vratz's behaviour was not lost
on the lookers-on. '* He went to death like an un-
daunted hero," wrote Evelyn in his "Diary," "and he
told a friend of mine that he did not value dying a
rush, and hoped and believed God would deal with
him like a gentleman." Sir John Reresby says that
Vratz led a forlorn hope at Mons. What possible
object he can have had to engage in this business one
cannot imagine.

The triple execution took place on March loth, and
**my Lady Ogle" was once more a widow, at the cost
of four men's lives and the darkly stained honour of a
noble house. Three months later she married the
Duke of Somerset.

DUCHESS OF SOMERSETS LETTERS 317

In after years, when the shadows of her girlhood
were lifted and she found herself safely married to
a good husband, how she must have thanked Heaven
for her deliverance from both these men, the murdered
and the murderer !

Besides princely Petworth, this great heiress
brought Northumberland House in London and Sion
House at Isleworth into the Seymour family. The
traditions of both these are interesting. '

Northumberland House

At the corner of Trafalgar Square, above Charing
Cross, stood Northumberland House, the town resi-
dence of the Percys.

It was built early in the reign of James I. by
Henry Howard, Earl of Northampton, and during his
lifetime it was called Northampton House. At his
death it became the property of the Earl of Suffolk,
and was known as Suffolk House. Miles Glover was
said to have been the architect who built it.

At first it consisted of only three sides of a square,
one facing the street at Charing Cross, two wings
extending towards the river. The entrance was
through a fine arched gateway in the middle of the
street front, and, what is very remarkable, the principal
apartments were on the third and highest storey.

In the reign of Charles I., Algernon Earl of
Northumberland, Lord High Admiral of England,
married, about the year 1642, Lord Suffolk's daughter ;
and once more the great mansion changed names,
and was henceforth known as Northumberland House.
The old Northumberland House, so often mentioned

3i8 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

in history before this period, stood in Aldersgate
Street in the city, and was the original seat of the
earls of that name.

When London became more populous and the
buildings about Charing Cross daily increased, '' it
was found inconvenient to live" in the apartments
facing that way, owing to the '' noise and hurry of the
coaches and passengers in the street." To remedy
this, the aforesaid earl employed Inigo Jones to
complete the square by building a fourth side, '* which,
being parallel and opposite to that next the street,
is placed at sufficient distance from the aforesaid
disturbances, and almost enjoys all the advantages of
retirement at a country seat.

'' The gardens lay between the house and the
Thames. Its fine lawn was surrounded with a neat
gravel walk, bounded by a border of curious flowers,
shrubs, and evergreens.

'* The rooms were hung with beautiful tapestries,
and rich damask, with large glasses and frames of
exquisite workmanship and richly guilt. There were
also some fine pictures — landscapes, portraits, and
history pieces by Titian and other masters. In some
of the rooms may be seen large chests embellished
with old genuine Japan, which being great rareties
are almost invaluable."

The writer of this description of the house further
describes the additions and improvements made by
the reigning earl and countess, the grand-daughter of
Elizabeth Percy and her husband, who was granted
before 1761 the title of Northumberland by virtue of
his wife. These " made the house double the size,
and one of the largest and noblest houses in London."

DUCHESS OF SOMERSET'S LETTERS 319

But the sumptuous magnificence of its later days, with
its carved and gilded ceilings, its figures and festoons,
and its marble chimney-pieces and gorgeous draperies,
scarcely concerns the present memoir. We care most
to picture Northumberland House as it was when
Lady Giffard visited the Duchess of Somerset in
London.

It has all disappeared now ; its glories have passed
away for ever. The Embankment has swallowed up
the garden, and the Grand Hotel stands on the site of
the old house. But the great lion that kept *' watch
and ward " over the grand entrance now presides over
the family mansion at Sion House.

Sign House

Sion House can be seen to-day as it could be
seen then, across the water from the king's garden
at Richmond. It stands on the banks of the Thames
between Brentford and Isleworth — a massive battle-
mented white house built on the very spot on which
stood the church of the old monastery which Henry
VIII. had destroyed. Edward VI. gave it to his
uncle the Protector Somerset, who, it is supposed,
built the shell of the present house in 1547, and,
dying, left it to future generations to complete.

It was of white stone built in the form of a hollow
square ; the flat roof was covered with lead, and at
each corner of the house rose a square turret with
embattlements like the rest.

The house was three storeys high, and the east
front, facing the river, was supported by an arcade.
The gardens were enclosed in high walls at the east

320 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

and west, and were laid out in a very grand manner ;
but being made at a time when extensive views
were judged inconsistent with that solemn reserve
and stately privacy affected by the great, they were
so situated as to deprive the house of every beautiful
prospect the neighbourhood afforded, at least from
the lower apartments. To remedy this the Protector
built a high triangular terrace between the walls of
the two gardens, " and this it was," says the old
chronicler, "that his enemies afterwards did not
scruple to call a fortification, and to insinuate that
it was one proof amongst many others that he had
formed a design very dangerous to the king and
people."

After Somerset's attainder and execution, Sion
was forfeited to the Crown, and given to the Duke
of Northumberland, whose son, Lord Guildford
Dudley, with his wife. Lady Jane Grey, lived there
for a few brief months, till the duke in his turn being
beheaded on 22nd August 1553, Sion House once
more reverted to the Crown. Three years after this
Queen Mary restored it to the Bridgettines ; and it
remained in their possession till Elizabeth expelled
the nuns again, and some years later granted it on
a long lease to Henry, Earl of Northumberland, who,
in consideration of his service to the Government,
paid a very small rent for it, **and even that when
offered was generally remitted."

James L considered his lordship no longer as a
tenant, but gave it to him and his heirs for ever.
This earl set himself to improving the place, and it
appears from a letter from him to the king in 1613
that he laid out ^9000 on the house and gardens.

DUCHESS OF SOMERSETS LETTERS 321

His son Algernon, Lord High Admiral of England,
succeeded to the estate in 1632, and he employed
Inigo Jones to new face the inner court, to finish the
grand hall, and alter some of the apartments.

It was to Sion House that the children of Charles L
were sent by order of the Parliament in the August
of 1646, and were (as one would suppose they would
be) treated by Lord and Lady Northumberland ** in
all respects as was suitable to their birth." The
unhappy king frequently visited them there, **and
thought it a great alleviation to his misfortunes to
find them so happy."

When, on 30th May 1682, the Lady Elizabeth
Percy (Lady Ogle), the only daughter and heiress
of the Earl Joceline, married the Duke of Somerset,
Sion House once more returned to the Seymours, to
the great-grandson of the man who built it.

In later years, at the time of the misunderstand-
ings which arose between Queen Mary and her sister
Anne, the Somersets lent Sion to the princess and
her husband. Here it was that the little prince, who
nearly cost his mother her life, and only survived his
birth long enough to be christened George after his
father, was born. In her pain and grief Anne's
heart turned to the sister she had quarrelled with,
and hoping to heal the breach, sent her Dutch maid-
of-honour, Charlotte Bevervaart, to announce to Queen
Mary the death of her newly born son ; and it was
at Sion, on this occasion, that the sisters met for the
last time.

Accompanied by the Ladies Derby and Scar-
borough the queen went to Sion that afternoon, and saw
her sister " sad and weary " in bed. Miss Strickland

2 s

322 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

says that '*she never asked her how she did, she
never took her hand or sympathised with her suf-
ferings and her loss," but plunged at once into the
subject of the dispute between them. ** I have made
the first step," she said, "in coming to you, and I now
expect that you will make the second by dismissing
Lady Marlborough."

Anne's answer was one that, judging from her
insincerity in dealing with her unhappy father, one
would scarcely have expected of her. It was prompted
by a courageous loyalty to her friend that did her
honour. With trembling lips, and her face pale
with agitation, she said with dignity : ** I have never
in my life disobeyed your Majesty but in one parti-
cular, and I hope at some time or other it will appear
as unreasonable to your Majesty as it does now to
me." At which the queen arose abruptly, and left
the room with her ladies and husband (who was
also present at the interview), only Lady Scarborough
lingering to say a few kind words to the sufferer.

On her return to Kensington, Mary expressed her
regret at having spoken as harshly as she did. Her
compunction was but natural, and it probably never
occurred to her that she, not Anne, was to be the one
to die before a reconciliation was made.

This interview, at which Lady Scarborough assisted,
is but one of the many strange scenes, sad, dull, or
gay, now matters of history, that have been enacted
under the hospitable roof of Sion House.

DUCHESS OF SOMERSETS LETTERS 323

THE DUCHESS OF SOMERSET'S LETTERS

It is a common cause of regret and complaint
among us, when the sad duty of looking over and
destroying the letters of our dear ones who have
passed away is thrust upon us, that "they tear up
all the interesting ones in their lifetime, and leave
us only the stupid ones."

This is a little too sweeping, but it is true in the
main ; those letters that concern the most thrilling,
the most deeply interesting portions of our lives, we
frequently destroy, holding them either too intimate
or too sacred for other eyes. So, too, in the case of
family feuds or the skeletons that lurk in so many
cupboards ; correspondence which could often explain
matters that perplex and harass our descendants is
carefully burnt to spare the feelings of those into
whose hands they might otherwise immediately fall.
It is possibly for one or other of these reasons
that Lady Giffard has left us no letters that draw
away the veil shrouding her life after her early
womanhood until she reached old age. The letters
of the Duchess of Somerset are the very last of
the budget ; two of them were written as late as
June 1722, the year in which both she and Lady
Giffard died. They are charming letters in their
way. The Duchess was an excellent correspondent.
William Longueville thought ** her writing few people
could exceed." They breathe kindness and pleasant-
ness all through, and must have been a pleasure to
write, and to receive ; but at this distance of time we
could have appreciated a few more outside comments
and news, and a little less assurance of affection. In all

324 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

the long years of their friendship, Lady Giffard must
have received many more important letters from the
duchess than these, but either she or her executors
evidently thought fit to destroy them. These which
we have, in their unpretentious simplicity, strike one
as being distinctly characteristic and spontaneous.

At the time these letters were written the storms
of the Duchess of Somerset's life were over. Her
children were all gone — some married and some dead ;
her royal mistress too was dead. She had no place
(nor desire for it, we may be certain !) in the court of
the reigning king. She was retiring after a somewhat
strenuous life — the life of a great lady and a good
one — spent sometimes at Petworth, sometimes at Sion ;
and when at the latter place, we may believe that
the scarlet liveries of the duke were often to be seen
standing at the door of Lady Giffard's more modest
dwelling. The friendship of the two ladies, between
whom there was so much difference in age and
importance, was lifelong — at least, on the duchess's
side ; and it remained unbroken to the end.

Young John Temple of Sheen was living at Moor
Park with his cousin Betty, to whom he had been
married some years, who had not therefore changed
her name. John always managed his aunt's estates in
Yorkshire and elsewhere, and when she died she left
them to him. The Temples were unfortunately child-
less at their death, and Moor Park passed to the Bacons.

John's elder brother, Henry, who became Lord
Palmerston the very year Lady Giffard died, was
living in his father's house at Sheen. The genera-
tion we know had passed away ; and the Johns, and
Williams, and Henrys, and Dorothys were the sons

DUCHESS OF SOMERSET'S LETTERS 325

and daughters, and nephews and nieces, of those of the
same names who figured in earlier letters.

Temple Grove, the house in which many of this
generation of Temples spent their childhood (if they
were not actually born there), still stands, but is
doomed to destruction. As I write this, the walls of
its garden and the surrounding buildings are defaced
with great placards announcing the sale of the *' Temple
Grove estate for building purposes." The original
house has been added to from time to time, and would
be unrecognisable to any one who had known it then.
The old house apparently still stands inside the more
modern and most unlovely excrescences that bar it
from our sight. For over a hundred years it was a
preparatory school for Eton and other public schools
— at one time it was practically a Dotheboys' Hall.

But to return to Lady Giffard. It is very lament-
able that nothing is apparently left of her house at
Sheen. The furniture and hangings were bequeathed
to various people ; ** the curtains, bed, and chairs of my
own work in my room at Sheene " went to Mrs. More.
There still exists some very magnificent needlework,
the trappings of a four-post bed, called by tradition
'' Queen Anne's bed," but under the canopy of which
that royal lady never slept, for it has never been made
up (nor, indeed, has it ever been completed, until
thirty years ago the late Mrs. Longe of Spixworth
filled in the design on the unfinished curtain with the
exquisite floss silks that had been left with it). How
it came to be called ''Queen Anne's bed" nobody
knows ; but it is suggestive of a greater intimacy with
the queen on the part of Lady Giffard than we have
any record of, and was perhaps given to her as a

326 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

souvenir. The design is Chinese, and the materials
may have been imported by one of the great East
India Company's ships already referred to.

LETTER I

For the Lady Giffard,

at her house at Sheene.

Pet WORTH, August \%th.

I have soe sensible a feeling of everything that tutsches
you that I am trully scry for the loss you have of my
Lady Dixwell and that there has bin an aggravation of
the unfortunate accident which you say was the occasion
of her death, for tho' 'tis very terrible to lose a friend any
way yet when 'tis by a natural disease one is better able
to soport it because 'tis what we know must happen to us
all if wee are not carried ofe some other way. I did not
heare Lady CarHsle had any thoughts of leaving Kensing-
ton till she went to settle in London 'tis soe pretty a place
I wonder she should leave it for Richmond I believe you
will see her often when she is there. I find it soe much
the fashion to goe to France this summur but I thought
your neighbours had bin too old to make journeys of
pleasure into another Kingdome, and I thinke they chuse
a very ill time now there is soe raging a distemper in some
parts between Callis and Paris that few people are willing
to travell that way. I hope the sea will keep us from any
infection from thence. I have not seen the Dutchese of
Richmond this month, but when I did she was in the best
humour I ever saw and I heare from some of my neighbors
that have seen her lately that she seemes soe well pleased
with the report of her sons being to marrie my Lord
Cadogen's daughter that I dare say 'tis true. I find you
have not bin less uneasy with the hot weather than my
selfe, I have felt nothing like it this twenty yeare and what
was the most surprising was that the nights were as hot
as the days and the storms of thunder and lightning very

DUCHESS OF SOMERSET'S LETTERS 327

terrible and the sad effects one heares of it from severall
places will make mee more afrayd of it than ever. 1
thanke God there has bin noe hurt dun neer us. I did
not heare anything of the Dutchesse of Montague, but
from you, if she was strucke downe 'tis being happy ever
to recover for few people doe when lightning has soe
greate an effect as to make them swound except it pro-
ceeded from being mightily frighted. There was a bucke
killed which you were to have had parte of but it not
proving so good as some we have had the Duke of Somer-
set would not let it bee sent but you shall be sure to
have some in a few days from — Deare Madam, Yr most
affecttionate humble servant, E. Somerset.

The Lady Carlisle alluded to in this letter is the
daughter of Lady Essex. There is one letter from
her in this packet thanking Lady Giffard for some
grapes she had sent them (cut, no doubt, from Sir
William Temple's vines at Sheen), which she and her
boy have enjoyed together.

There is also a picture of her at Petworth — a fair,
ethereal creature, in a flame-coloured gown. The ex-
treme delicacy of her health was almost too apparent ;
and the fragility of her appearance, so different to the
accepted standard of beauty at that time, makes her
portrait seem almost like an anachronism as it hangs
among the more voluptuous beauties of the Petworth
portraits. Yet she was one of the toasts of the Kit-
Cat Club, and Doctor Samuel Garth wrote the
following verses in her honour for the *' toasting
glasses " : —

" Carlisle's name can every muse inspire,
To Carlisle fill the glass and tune the lyre ;
With his loved bays the god of day shall crown
A wit and lustre equal to his own.

328 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

At once the sun and Carlisle took their way
To warm the frozen north and kindle day ;
The flowers to both their glad creation owed —
Their virtues he, their beauties she bestowed."

The meaning of the second verse is somewhat
obscure. One can realise the first — Apollo crowning
her golden curls with the immortal bay — but one can't
follow the conceit any further. It is hard to imagine
poor Lady Carlisle warming any '' frozen north." She
looks as if she needed all the sunshine of Cathay to
keep her warm, and one can't help profanely thinking
that perhaps the flowers could manage very well with
the sun alone ! But like so many of these compli-
mentary verses, they probably had a hidden meaning
which is lost on us.

Lady Dixwell, whose sufferings are over, was
Lady Temple's pretty niece, Dorothy Peyton.

This summer of 17 19 seems to have been an
exceptionally hot one ; it is mentioned in several
letters of the time. It is uncertain if the Duchess of
Montague who was struck by lightning was the
widow of Ralph Montague, the ex-ambassador in
Paris, or the wife of his son, who had married the
only surviving daughter of the Duke of Marlborough.

The Duchess of Richmond, who is in such high
good humour at the talk about her son's marriage with
the daughter of Lord Cadogan, is the lady who went
as a bride to dine at Petworth twenty years before,
on the occasion of Sir William Temple's last visit
there.

She was not disappointed of her daughter-in-law.
The marriage took place in that same year, 1 7 1 9. The
father of the bride. Lord Cadogan, was one of Queen

DUCHESS OF SOMERSET'S LETTERS 329

Anne's generals, a companion-in-arms of the Duke
of Marlborough, and a successor of his in command
of the army. He had been lately elevated to the
peerage as ** Baron Cadogan of Reading, in the county
of Berks." It was his eldest daughter Sarah who
married the Duke of Richmond.

The ''distemper" raging in the north of France
was a variety of the plague. No amount of surmises
can satisfactorily light on Lady Giffard's probable
neighbours who were accounted too venturesome for
their years.

LETTER II

To Lady Giffard
att Shene.

Pet WORTH, yif/^ 2,ird.

I have often heard you say that writing is an enter-
tainment to you and now you have soe few neighbours of
your side of the watter you have more time then you use
to have and if deare Lady Giffard could be sensible how
wellcome your letters are to mee you would let mee heare
much oftener from you for I am too old to follow the
raining custom of the age we live in of leaving friends I
have had long acquaintance with for new ones and you
shall always find me the same to you I have bin for soe
many yeares.

I have not heard from Lady Carlisle since I writt to
her, but I am glad to know from you that she is well and
likes her habitation at Twickenham. I doe entirely agree
with you that being quite alone is too melencoly a way of
living but of the two I thinke that is more tolerable then
soe much company as there is now about here and par-
ticularly when 'tis dangerous to be abroad in an evening,
which is not to be avoyded now that everybody keep soe
late howers in the country as well as in London. When

2 T

330 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

I came hither there was such an appearance of fruit on
all the trees that I was afraid when it was ripe I should
have bin tempted to have eat too much of it but the
continuall raine and high windes has made such a dis-
tructtion that I don't believe we shall have any good this
yeare for that little which is now ripe has noe tast and
the rest is so spoyled that if we should have warm
weather I don't thinke it could recover the blites there
has bin. I never felt such a summur as this month that
use to be the hottest has bin soe cold that I could some
days have sat by a fier, and have seldome had a window
open tho' you know my rooms lye to the south and are
warme when any place is soe. Venison is the only
thing that has not suffered by this unnaturall weather and
I hope you will find this good which I now send you.
There is two pigs kept at Syon for you and whenever
there is anything you would have that I can supplye you
with pray let me know it.

The Duke of Portland having deferred his journey so
long I did not believe he intended to goe and I am sory
to find he dus, for I can't see any prospect of advantage
he can expect from it. I thinke 'tis against the opinione
of all his friends and his being so set upon having this
government looks as if there were an unlucky fate atended
him to doe every thing to compleate his undoing which I
really believe this will for if there were much to be got
there he is not of a temper to take the right way for he is
the vainest man living and will spend whatever he gets
and since he could not keep out of debt with soe plenti-
full a fortune as his Father left him 'tis not very likely he
will bee soe good a manager as to repaire it by his own
industry, the near relation I have to him and his wife
makes me heartily sory for them I believe his being ill
gave a great alarme to the Princesse for he dus not appear
to be a stronge man and I thinke was often out of order
last winter and the walking so late in the wood as they
doe in such a cold weather season as this has bin must

DUCHESS OF SOMERSET'S LETTERS 331

certainly be very unwholesome tho' nobody likes better to
be abroad in a fine evening than I doe. There has bin so
few this summur that I have walked seldomer than ever I
did, tho' I have bin well and not had a cold since I came
into the country.

The Duke of Somerset sends his humble service to
you, and I am, deare Madam, yr most faithful! and
affectionate servant, E. S.

The passage in this letter relating to the going of
the Duke of Portland "to his government," dates this
letter beyond a doubt. The government was that of
Jamaica, and he went there in 1720.

This Henry Bentinck, the first duke, was the son
of Lord Portland and his first wife, Anne Villiers.
He was not, therefore, Lady Giffard's nephew, or
one may be certain the courteous duchess would not
have criticised him so severely in writing to that lady !
She was no false prophet in her fear that his unlucky
fate would undo him, for he never returned, but died
out there during his command in 1726.

The duchess's antipathy to him must have been a
personal one, and if he was the ** vainest man living"
(which it is quite likely he was), he also had some
charming qualities which perhaps counterbalanced the
vanity ; that is, after all, one of the faults we most
of us smile at not unkindly, rather than condemn
too severely. Jacobs' *' Complete English Peerage,"
published in 1769, describes him as possessing '*as
much native sweetness and as generous sentiments
as any person of the time " ; and he was particularly
happy in gaining the affection of all parties — so much
so, that in November 1708 he found himself in the
proud (but possibly somewhat embarrassing) position

332 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

of being returned for both the town and county of
Southampton in Parliament ! His manners were
kindly and courteous, and his hospitality princely —
too princely, the duchess thought, for his fortune, which
was a large one. It was perhaps this lavish expendi-
ture that made it expedient to accept the governorship
of Jamaica against the wishes of his friends ; for one
cannot imagine that a man living in England on his
own property which he loved (for he was no absentee
landlord), would willingly exchange the beautiful
English country for the tropical heat and banishment
of the West Indies. He himself was perhaps just as
reluctant to start as his friends were to see him go ;
for though he was appointed on the 9th September
1 72 1, he did not arrive at Spanish Town till the 26th
December 1722, after the writer of this letter was dead.
He was accompanied by his duchess, and they were
received with the utmost demonstrations of joy. His
reign was, as the Duchess of Somerset predicted, but
a short one, and less than four years later his widow
brought his body home and buried it at Titchfield.
He was only forty-four, and, but for his unlucky star
which lured him west, might perhaps have lived many
years among the people who appreciated him so much.
I cannot discover what near relationship existed be-
tween the Duchess of Somerset and the Portland
family, but the Duchess of Portland was Lady
Elizabeth Noel, daughter of the second Earl of Gains-
borough, and therefore first cousin to the Duchess of
Somerset, whose mother had been of that family.

The dangers of being abroad in the evening were
very real in those days. True, the fiendish members
of the Mohawk club no longer raided the streets at

DUCHESS OF SOMERSETS LETTERS 333

midnight, frightening and insulting women, and
attacking and ill-treating unarmed men, hanging inno-
cent pedestrians to lamp-posts, nor stopping short of
actual murder where they met with resistance. This
scandalous nuisance had been put down by Act of
Parliament. But it was the constant quarrels between
Orangemen and Jacobites, and hostile demonstrations
ill under control, that made night hideous in these
early days of the reign of the first Hanoverian king.
Fashionable ladies proceeding to card-parties and
*' routs " ran all sorts of unpleasant risks in their
transit from street to street, while in the country
travellers were stopped and robbed by highwaymen,
whose masks concealed faces sometimes not altogether
unknown to their victims.

The prince who was **not strong" was Frederick,
Prince of Wales, who was then living at Richmond
in the palace rebuilt by the exiled Duke of Ormond.

LETTER III

Petworth, Sept. 7thy 20.

You have reason to belive I have not bin well be-
cause tis soe long since you heard from mee, but I must
owne that was not the reason, nor I cannot give any good,
therefore must depend intierly on Deare Lady Giffard's
inclination to forgive the faylings of your friends for I
can say nothing for myselfe, as I have had noe pain in
my face since I came heather and have bin very well in
my health. I have made use of the fine weather and
walked more than I have don all the rest of the summer
after soe much cold as we had in July and August tis
surprising at the end of September to feele the sun soe
hot as not to be able to walk but in the shade, it has had
the same effect heare as in your garden for the grapes

334 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

begin to be ripe which I had despaired of this yeare, and
wee have still the finest figs I ever eat !

I don't wonder Lady Carlisle is gon to London for
if she is still lame that take away a great deale of the
pleasure of being in the country, for I thinke being con-
fined to sit in a chaire makes company very necessary,
and I beHeve there will soon be very little left either in
Twitenham or Richmond, when the Court removes from
thence you will lose the opportunity of seeing Lady Port-
land at Sheene, therefore as soone as ill weather comes
you must thinke of taking up your winter's habitation in
Dover Street, for the meeting of Parliament will bring
everyone early to Towne. Lady Carmarthen will be
there next week and my daughter Wyndham the week
after, but I have set noe time for my leaving this place,
but it will be not before the Duke of Somerset returns
from Newmarket where he is going in ten days, he pre-
sents his humble service to you. I was surprised to heare
Mr. Norton had prepared so fine an entertainment for the
King, for he might safely imagine that a journey made in
soe much haste would not admitt of staying to dine and
a place where he did not intend to have lighted out of his
coach, but I am glad he did for I thinke it soe pretty a
place as to be very well worth seeing ; and the Prince
was certainly very much in the right in what he said of
Mr. Norton, for I don't knowe anybody who knows better
how to behave themselves on all occasions then he does
which makes some actions of his life the more unpardon-
able. I am sory to heare Mrs. Talbot is so ill. I wish
the Bath watters may doe her good I thinke she has bin
there once before and was better after it, the troble she
has lately had for the loss of two such friends I belive has
had a great effect on her health. I hope my having bin
soe long without answering your first letter will not make
you be soe to mee for I assure you Deare Madam the
hearing from you is at all times a pleasure too — Your
most affectionate humble servant, E. Somerset.

DUCHESS OF SOMERSET'S LETTERS 335

There is a good deal of '* weather " in the duchess's
letter, as there often is in letters from the country ;
necessarily so, for so much depends upon it. Lady
Giffard, who was growing grapes and possibly figs
herself, was no doubt very much interested in the
Petworth fruit.

The Duke of Somerset does not desert Newmarket,
though he is no longer Master of the Horse. He has
attended more than one monarch there, but it is im-
probable that he went this time in any but a private
capacity.

An autumn session was drawing every one to
town. In Lady Carmarthen we see a daughter of the
duchess's and the wife of the Marquis of Carmarthen,
whom we have hitherto known as Lord Danby.

*' My daughter Wyndham " was the Lady Catherine
Seymour, wife of Sir William Wyndham, an active
Jacobite, and one of those who had the misfortune
to be found out.

Soon after George L ascended the throne. Sir
William was suspected — not altogether without reason
apparently ! — of being in a plot for assisting James
Stuart in an ill-advised attempt to invade England.
It is to this abortive scheme that Lady Giffard alluded
in her letter of June 1715, in which she deplored the
misery of the times, and spoke of the '' Pretender "
being heard of ** here, there, and everywhere."

The manner of this Somersetshire baronet's cap-
ture gives a characteristic picture of the curious
diversity of opinions held by members of one family,
without apparently affecting very much their friendly
and affectionate relations towards each other.

The colonel-commandant and the men who were

336 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

sent into the country to arraign him came to his house
at a very early hour in the morning, and found Sir
William in bed. An urgent message to him through
his unwilling servant brought him downstairs in his
night-clothes, and he was immediately arrested. He
submitted with a good grace, and requested to be
allowed to return to his room and dress, and take
leave of his lady, which was of course granted.
The colonel accompanied him to his dressing-room,
where, seeing his clothes lying on a chair, he took the
opportunity of rifling the pockets, and found in them
some important and incriminating papers. These he
promptly annexed, quite undeceived by Sir William's
frank offer of the keys of his bureau ; the anxiety in
his captive's speaking countenance having told him
more plainly than words could do that he had got
all he wanted already.

The prisoner's next move, however, was more
artful. He entered Lady Catherine's chamber to make
his adieus, and the colonel mounted a guard at the two
doors of it, unaware that there was a third, through
which the master of the house escaped in disguise.

Sending on a servant to the house of a parson in
Surrey, whose name unfortunately does not transpire,
he begged to be received by him " as a guest who would
arrive in the habit of a clergyman." The gentleman
being out, the note was delivered to his wife, who, with
a selfish prudence which we may hope earned her the
contemptuous wrath of her spouse, fearing that she
and her husband might be involved, sent it straight
off to Lord Aylesbury. He communicated at once
with the Government, and Sir William, learning of the
miscarriage of his letter, made a virtue of necessity

DUCHESS OF SOMERSET'S LETTERS 337

and surrendered himself, first crossing the Thames
and presenting himself at Sion House. This move
must have been an embarrassing one for his father-
in-law, the Duke of Somerset, who was then Master
of the Horse to the new king! Acting probably
on his advice, Sir William went up to London and
surrendered himself to his brother-in-law, Lord Hert-
ford, captain of a troop of Life Guards ; he in his
turn gave notice to the Secretary of State, Mr. Stan-
hope, who sent a message to take Sir William once
more into custody, and he was committed to the
Tower. The Duke of Somerset offered bail for him,
and this was refused. The ** Proud Duke," who was
not accustomed to refusals, took it hardly, and bore
the denial so impatiently that he was removed from
his place at court. So the little family arrangement
— which was to show the Somersets' zeal and loyalty
to the reigning king, and make things as easy as
possible at the same time for their Jacobite relation
— did not come off as they intended, and Wyndham
spent some time as a prisoner in the Tower.

Mr. Morton, who prepared so grand an entertain-
ment for the king when starting for a hurried and
sudden journey into Hanover, had a fine place near
Southampton. He had married Lady Elizabeth Noel,
aunt to her namesake the young Duchess of Portland.
The king's eulogy of Mr. Morton's behaviour seems to
have given the duchess pleasure, though there were
evidently passages in his life she did not approve.
What they were I cannot discover, memoirs of this
date being curiously rare in comparison with the
colossal mass of literature of a slightly earlier age
that floods our libraries.

2 u

338 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

1 1 is likely that Mrs. Talbot was of the family of the
Duke of Shrewsbury, or, as the Bishop of Chichester
at that time was a Talbot, she may have been either
his wife or daughter. Petworth is not very far
from Chichester, and the bishop and the Duchess
of Somerset are very likely to have been acquainted.

LAST LETTER FROM THE DUCHESS
OF SOMERSET

Petworth, June 20th (1722).

I think myself very unlucky, deare madam, not to have
seen you the day you were in Towne, nor at Sheene, for
if I had gon out of London the day I intended, I should
have bin one day at Syon, and then my designe was to
have dined with you, and to have desired my Lady
Carlisle to have meete me, and in the afternoon to
have made poore Lady Scarborough a vissit, when I
believe you would both have liked to have gon with
me, but I was disappoynted of all this by hearing Lady
Thomond (?) would be in Towne a Thursday, which
made me put ofe my journey to see her, and a Friday
I had only time to stop at Syon for two howers, and
went on to Guilford that night, and the next day I dined
here, and found the swete air of the country very
refreshing, and bin very well since I came here. I
can't say I have bin for many months free from a pain
in my face, but it is now soe much lesse than it has bin,
that if it does not grow worse, I shall thinke I have
reason to be contented.

I am very glad to hear Lady Carlisle is better, for she
has looked soe ill this winter, that I thought her in great
danger of a consumption, and she has soe many valuable
qualities that tis impossible to know her without having a
true conserne for her. I believe Lady Portland is very

DUCHESS OF SOMERSET'S LETTERS 339

happy when she can have liberty to pass a few howers
with you. I pitty her that she is oblidged to goe so often
betwixt Richmond and Kensington in the heate of the
day, and throughe such a cloud of dust as there is on
that roade, if the accounts I heard of what the Duke of
Marlborough has left be true, tis so vast a wealth as I
believe no subject in England ever was possessed of.
I don't wonder she is in great affliction for him, for she
married him for love, and he has always made her soe
good a return as to deserve a continuance of her kind-
ness, and tho' his ill health had very much affected his
understanding, yet he had still enough to make him
sensible of the care she had of him, and there is nothing
tutchese so neere as the parting with an old friend. I
left Lady Carmarthen well, and very big, I hope with
child, but she is not yet quicke. One cannot be sure of
it. 'Tis what I shall be very glad of, because it will be a
great pleasure to her and 'tis soe to me to se an increase
to my family. — I am, deare Lady Giffard's most affec-
tionate, humble Servant, E. Somerset.

A peculiar interest always hangs about the ** last "
of anything, and Lady Giffard must have valued
this letter more than all the preceding ones, for
not only was it the last she ever received from the
duchess, but it must have been one of the last she
ever penned.

The duchess must have little anticipated her
coming end when she spoke so cheerfully about the
abatement of the pain in her own face, and exhausted
all her sympathies on the pains, mental and bodily, of
others, yet she had only six more days to live. On
the 26th of June she died. The shock to her old
friend must have been severe, and Lady Giffard did
not long survive her.

The duchess has not dated her letter with the

340 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

year, only with the day and month ; but the allusion
to the death of the Duke of Marlborough dates it
unmistakably — he died on the i6th of June 1722.

"Last" days were drawing near for all the
principal people mentioned in these letters who
had not already passed away. Lady Giffard herself
was spending in her usual way her last summer at
Sheen, and her house was open to her friends.
The duchess announces, quite without ceremony, that
she *' meant to have dined with her " ; and though
over eighty, Lady Giffard's years sat so lightly
upon her that she drove about, and called on her
friends, and was no doubt excellent company still.

However, the little plan fell through, and the three
ladies did not ** wait on " poor Lady Scarborough,
who was a great friend of the duchess's. She was,
as has been already noticed, in attendance on Queen
Mary when she paid her last visit to the Princess
Anne at Sion House. Lord Scarborough was but
lately dead. He had, it was said, told a State secret
in confidence to Lady Marlborough, who betrayed it,
and this so chagrined him that he took his own life.
The intended visit was probably one of condolence.
There are two letters of this lady's published in the
Duchess of Marlborough's correspondence. One of
them was written at the time of the Marlborough
debacle, obviously to show that her friendship was un-
changed by circumstances. It exhibits tact and good-
ness of heart, which was not lost on the recipient ;
though, if the story of the Duchess of Marlborough's
betrayal of Scarborough's confidence is true, the
kindness was but ill requited.

** A very kind letter when I had lost my interest,"

DUCHESS OF SOMERSETS LETTERS 341

says the imperious Sarah, with becoming gratitude
and unwonted humility. **This is a good deal for
her [Lady Scarborough] to say, for she has a great
friendship for the Duchess of Somerset, who was gone
to Petworth after she has secured my place, and in
the winter, so that it might look in the world as if
she knew nothing about my being removed."

This last remark is probably an unfair one. It is
conceivable that the Duchess of Somerset retired to
Petworth for a time, not because she cared in the very
least what it appeared like ** in the world " as far as
she herself was concerned, but in order not to take up
her duties unnecessarily soon after the dismissal of the
Marlboroughs ; she had hitherto been on very friendly
terms with them, and probably would always have
remained so, but for Lady Marlborough's arrogance
and ungovernable jealousy. There is nothing in any
records of the great anti- Marlborough faction, to lead
one to believe that the Duchess of Somerset ever
sought to take any unfair advantage of her position as
favourite of the queen; but Sarah had grown **too
big for her place " — the royal worm had turned. The
only wonder is that it did not turn before !

At that time of her life Anne was, I think, one of
the most pathetic figures of history. She had passion-
ately desired the crown, and she had got it ; and what
did it bring her? Individually, nothing — nothing but
troubles, carking care, and petty worries. Her glory
was but reflected glory. Nothing that she ever said
or did was glorious in itself. Her banners flew over
the world, her victories on land and sea were magni-
ficent, but what part had ''good Queen Anne" in all
this noise and clamour ? " Good Queen Anne " was

342 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

tormented with petty squabbles within and without.
Her statesmen and her ladies quarrelled over her
favours ; she was bullied and harassed on every
side, suffering in mind and body ; and, being royal,
was not even allowed to die in peace.

All her early womanhood had been spent in bring-
ing into the world children who only opened their eyes
and shut them again. The only one who lived to be
old enough to cause much sorrow by his death — the
little Duke of Gloucester — soon went the way of the
rest — seventeen children, and not one to come after
her !

The hopes the Duchess of Somerset was enter-
taining as to an addition to her family ended in
disappointment. Lady Carmarthen died in 172 1, and
left her lord no heir. This lady was Anne, eldest
daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Somerset. Her
husband, the Marquis of Carmarthen, we first knew
as Sir Thomas Osborne, and then as the Earl of
Danby. He died in 17 12, as Duke of Leeds.

Lady Thomond was another daughter. There is
a very fine picture of the young Earl of Thomond
at Petworth — a beautiful, dark-eyed, dark-haired boy,
with the best traits of his Keltic blood showing in
his face.

One of the chief interests of these letters is
that they show us the writer under a pleasing but
unfamiliar aspect. We have hitherto known her as a
great lady of the court of Queen Anne, wearing her
strawberry leaves with a dignity only natural to those
who are to the manner born, moving serenely through
the world in the almost regal state her birth and
wealth entitled her to, honoured by many, hated by

DUCHESS OF SOMERSET'S LETTERS 343

some, and sneered at by a few ; but we have not
known her in her role of a simple country gentle-
woman, with homely tastes and occupations, watching
her ripening fruits, anxious about her garden, even
'* fatting a pig " at Sion for her friend !

They give us, too, a glimpse of the ** Proud Duke "
in private life — playing cards with Sir William Temple
at Petworth, reading Lady Giffard's MSS. and giving
her advice and criticism, countermanding the order
for a haunch of venison which was going to her
because it was "not a good enough one," and writing
her a sympathetic little note of sympathy when Sir
William died.

The Duchess of Somerset's allusion to the Duke
of Marlborough's death, and the colossal fortune he
was leaving behind him, has in it no trace of bitter-
ness nor rancour. The Duchess of Marlborough had
reviled and abused her, but that was all past ; there
was no room in the Duchess of Somerset's kind heart
at this moment but for pity and sympathy with her in
her loss, and gladness that ** though his illness had
very much affected his understanding, he was still
able to appreciate his wife's care."

A not entirely new, but an unusual light is thrown
by this letter on the character of the fierce duchess,
who has been so indelibly stamped upon the pages of
history as a jealous and violent virago, a very master
of vituperation, and of a temper unrivalled for its pride
and arrogance. Two hundred years later, the pen of
her once hated rival is to conjure up a picture before
us of a devoted nurse, tending the poor semi-imbecile
wreck of the great soldier who was once the love of
her youth. *' She married him for love, and he has

344 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

always made her so good a return as to deserve the
continuance of her kindness." So the Duchess of
Somerset finds a word of appreciation for him too!
The Marlborough romance was an old, old story then,
but Lady GifFard probably remembered it well ; and
we can imagine how vividly the details of the clandes-
tine marriage, which had made such a sensation at
Whitehall, came before her again as she read these
words.

The life story of the two beautiful Jennings, Frances
and Sarah, is even more widely known than that of
the Duchess of Somerset. Linked together in the
minds of posterity, their beginnings were as widely
apart as their characters. While the Lady Elizabeth
Percy was the descendant of heroes and princes, the
origin of the Jennings sisters was (or discreetly feigned
to be) a mystery.

PART XIII

LAST DAYS OF LADY GIFFARD, AND
HER WILL

" Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or
the pitcher be broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern.
Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was : and the spirit shall
return unto God who gave it." — Ecclesiastes xii. 6, 7.

** Death, the inevitable end, will come when it will
come," wrote Shakespeare. Swiftly, and with little
warning, except the undeniable one of her eighty-
three years, it came to Lady Giffard at the end of
1722. Scarcely a year before she had made her
will ; and on the square sheet of rough paper, in-
scribed in her slightly tremulous, upright hand, are
the names of many of the people who have become
familiar to us through the foregoing letters. This
little document is preserved at Spixworth, together
with Sir William's gold medal and seal, and Dorothy
Osborne's plain gold engagement-ring with the
''poesy" engraved inside it — ''The love I owe I
cannot showe." There also is preserved the tortoise-
shell guard she begged Temple to send her "to
keep it on with."

MY WILL. LADY GIFFARD.

I Martha Giffard being at this time by the blessing of
Almighty God in perfect health of body and mind do
declare this to be my last Will and Testament.

I first bequeath my Soul into ye hands of Almighty

3« 2 X

346 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

God imploring his mercies to me in Jesus Christ. I
desire to be buried at Westminster Abbey by my Brother,
Sister and Niece, who are all gone before me, that my
Funerall may be with ye least expense my friends are
content to allow of ; by night, no scutchion, and only
follow'd by ye few friends or servants content to pay ye
last office of kindness to my memory, I desire no scutchion
to be set upon my House.

I give my niece Lady Portland my 2 agate cups and
saucers, my largest Indian Teapot garnished with gold,
my ebony cabinett ye 2 chocolate cups I usual drink in,
and my onyx seal set with diamonds wch. I desire she
will wear in remembrance of so old and true a friend.
To my Godson Mr. Bentinck I give his Mother's picture
and the gold box his Father gave me. To my nephew
Mr. Henry Temple I give ye picture of our Saviour and
ye Virgin Mary now over ye chimney in my drawingroom.
To my niece his wife any three pieces she shall choose
of my china, and ye 2 Spanish heads upon my stairs.

And having lately purchased ye quit rents of Blansby
my will and order is yt ye five years after my deceas ye
rent being seventy-two pounds a year shall go towards
paying my debts and ye legacies on this Will and after
yt year I give and (devise ?) to my niece Lucy Temple
ten pounds a year to be first payed her during her life
without abatement for taxes out of these lands and ye
remainder while she lives, and ye whole after to her
brother Mr. John Temple and his wife Mrs. EHzabeth
Temple and his heirs male and in case of his failing wch
I pray God prevent, to go along with ye (remainder ?) of
Blandsby income as his Father tells me is settled.

I give to my niece Mrs Elizabeth Temple all my
plate, pictures, and china in my House in Dover Street
not otherwise dispos'd off before my death or in this will,
the hundred pounds I have upon . , . ship in her name,
my pendulum clock. Ruby ring, ye little pins in my closet
at Sheen. Two . . . boxes and cup of unicorn's horns

LADY GIFFARD'S WILL 347

in my closet therC; my orange trees for Moore Park and
my cornelian heart, with one diamond in it, and have
already given my niece Bacon ye thousand pounds I
always design'd her and to her own disposal in case it
pleaseth God she should outlive Mr. Bacon, I give her
besides my repeating watch the picture of her Grand-
mother on ye chimney piece in my chamber and ye seal
of Niobe on my morning table to wear as a remem-
brance, to her son my godson I give 20 Jacobus out
of my old gold. To my niece Mrs Lucy Temple I
leave one hundred pounds besides ye ten pounds a year
already mentioned from Blansby, with what furniture
belongs to and is left in my house in ye winter at my
House at Sheen not disposed of before or by this will.
My bookcase, and all ye French and English books in
it to my niece Temple of Moore Park and desire that
Ld. Berkeley will let all my Spanish books there and at
London find a room amongst his.

To my Ld. Byron I give my heart set with diamonds
and little teapot garnished with gold. To my goddaughter
Miss Betty Temple at Sheen I give one of my gilt cups
and salver with my two little silver candlesticks. To my
goddaughter Mrs. Mary Temple I give my other gold cup
and salvo silver with tea table, teapot, and cups yt belong
to it at my house at London with my hand candlestick
wch I desire she may always use to be remembered by.
To her Brother Mr. Wm. Temple I give my gold tooth-
pick and my gold shoe buckles with ten pounds for his
pocket money. To my goddaughter Martha Dingley I
give ten pounds, five to a daughter of Mrs Bradleys if
then alive that ye Des of Bedford christen'd with me to
Mrs Elizabeth Hamond (Dingley) who lived some time
with me at Sheen I give ten pounds to Mrs Hester Johnson
I give ten pounds with ye hundred pounds I put into ye
exchequer for her life and my owne and declare the
hundred pounds to be hers wch I am told is there in my
name upon ye survivorship and for wch she has constantly

348 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

sent me her certificate and received ye interest, I give
her beside my silver chocolate pot, To Mrs More I give
twenty pounds with my largest silver saucepan, to Fenton
I give what time remains at my death of a (lease ?) of
twelve pounds a year now let to Mr. Pavy in Ireland my
little silver cup and cover with thirty guineas, all my
wearing clothes except my best night goune and petticoat
with two (suits ?) of night cloaks wch I leave to my
Chamber-maid I give Fenton besides ye bed she lies upon
at Sheen with the hangings and chairs yt belong to it.

I give all my servants half a year's wages and to be
one fortnight in my house after my death. I give Mrs
More ye wrought bed in ye largest room at Sheen with
ye largest chair those of my own work. I give any of ye
gold things belonging to my poquet or that use to hang
at my watch with each of them a five pound piece in gold
to my Nieces Jenny and Herriet Temple of Moore Park.
I give ten pounds to ye Charity School at Richmond ten
pounds to ye poore of Farnham and ten pounds to ye
poore of ye parish where I dye and out of whatever is due
when I dye of my joynture in Ireland, I give forty pounds
to Mrs Ormesby sister to my nephew Duke Giffard.

I desire my executors in ye first place to order ye
tomb stone to be set up in Westminster Abbey according
to ye directions in my brother Sir Wm. Temple's will in
ye place where he and my sister are already and where
I desire to be buried, and towards ye charges of that of all
my just debts and legacies in this will I order my house
in Dover Street to be sold with ye ground belonging to
it wch I desire my executors with ye friends hereinafter
named will se done to ye best advantage and what shall
remain of mine in money debts or any other kind be
disposed of before my death or by this will I give to my
nephew Mr. William Temple now at Eaton School and I
desire his Father will dispose of it towards his breeding
and to add to his poquet expences while he is under age,
and to his owne disposal after.

LADY GIFFARD'S WILL 349

And of this my last and Will and Testament I leave
my niece ye Lady Portland and my nephew Mr. John
Temple my executors and desire their brother Mr. Temple's
advice and assistance to call them in any thing to trouble
em and that they will all se it executed according to my
intention wch I hope I have made plain though not having
consulted anybody it may differ much from ye common
forms and this I once more declare to be my last Will
and Testament of wch I have made my niece the Lady
Portland and her brother Mr. John Temple my executors
in Witness of wch I have writ it with my owne hand and
set to it my hand and seal this eighth of November 172 1.

M. GiFFARD.

Signed sealed and delivered in our presence by ye
Testatrice who in here have subscribed our names as
witnesses.

Jon. Holloway.

Thos. Edmonds.

John Kersfoot.

A Codicil to Lady Giffard's Will.

Written on ^oth March 1772, /o«r months later than the Will.

My annuity of 99 years being sold since ye writing of
this will and one hundred pounds given to my niece Lucy
Temple I leave her one hundred pounds more (besides
yt mentioned in my Will and ye ten pounds a year from
my Nephew during her life) which I hope she will leave
after to him and his family.

And of ye furniture at my House at London I leave
ye hanging and skreen and all furniture of my drawing
room and closet to my niece Temple of More Park ye
skreen in my bed chamber to Lady Betty Egerton and ye
bed and hangings there to furnish any room at More Park,
ye rest of ye furniture wch. is worth little to go along

350 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

with ye house, witnes my hand and seal this 30th of
March 1772. M. Giffard.

In presence of

Jane Ffenton.
Thomas Edwards.
William Johnson.

In reading the will it must naturally strike one
as strange that no relations of her husband are left
anything except a paltry £40 to one Mrs. Ormesby,
said to have been the daughter of a sister of his. This
sounds even more strange when a report was flying
round that Sir Thomas Giffard had married her only
to leave his fortune to her, but what is far more
probable is that he had none to leave ! Her mar-
riage, like her brother's, had probably been a love-
match, and what her husband had went elsewhere
at his death. There certainly is a mention of a
little Irish property, but it is not Castle Jordan, nor
in the same county ; and had she been possessed of
anything like wealth, it is unlikely that she would have
lived all her life in her brother's house. That she had
money in her middle age is certain ; but is it not more
than likely that the house in Dover Street was the
residence of her father, Sir John, and that, his sons
being both well provided for, he left it to his only
daughter with the little piece of his Irish property ?
This is far more probable, when one thinks of the
fallen fortunes of the Giffards (who lost their lands
and substance in the Irish Rebellion), than that the
property should have been left her by her husband.

'' My Lady Portland'' is of course Martha Temple,
Countess of Portland, her niece.

To the care of Lady Betty Egerton (Lady

The Temple Relics at Spixworth Park

{Seep S4S)

The Temple Cabinet at Spixworth Park

LADY GIFFARD'S WILL 351

Portland's daughter) we owe the preservation, for
the British Museum, of Lady Giffard's letters to
her mother.

** My godson, Mr. Bentincky^ is William, Lady Port-
land's son, and her great-nephew.

''My nephew, Henry Temple!' brother of John of
Moor Park, and owner of Temple Grove at East
Sheen. A few months later he was raised to the
peerage as Lord Palmerston.

''My niece Lucy'' was the unmarried sister at
Temple Grove. It was she who was with young
Lady Berkeley when she died, and who took charge
of Lady Harriette Berkeley in her extremity.

"My niece Temple of Moor Park" was " Betty,"
Jack Temple's eldest daughter, and Lady Giffard's
great-niece.

"Lord Berkeley'' was William, the third Baron
of Stratton, and widower of Frances Temple, another
great-niece.

"My Lord Biron,' fourth Baron, married Frances
Wilhelmina, third daughter of Lord Portland.

" Mary and William Temple " were, I think, two
of Henry's children.

" My goddaughter, Martha Ding ley,'' "WdiS the Mrs.
Dingley of Swift's " Journal."

"Mrs. Elizabeth Hamond {Dingley^ " is the cousin
who married her cousin Captain Dingley.

"Mrs. Hester Johnson" was ** Stella."

'* Fenton " was probably a sister of Swift's.

"My nieces Jenny and Herriet" were the children
at Moor Park.

'* Mr. William Temple, now at Eaton School^' was
the great-nephew at Moor Park.

352 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

''Mr. John Temple',' one of her executors with
Lady Portland, was John of Moor Park.

''Mrs. More'' appears to have been her lady
companion, since she received remuneration for her
services — as we have seen in Lady Giffard's account-
book.

Lady Giffard was really a pattern of method, and
she kept her accounts as tidily as she did her letters.
A square parchment-covered book has been spared to
us by the accident of her nephew, John, having taken
it into his own use for the same purpose. The first
entry on the fly-leaf is a list of her servants, dated
2ist March 172 1 — the year before she died. This
list contained the names of none that we know. Mrs.
Johnson is not there, nor Mrs. Bradley, nor Hester,
nor " Brigitt," nor the ** Nanny" that we have heard
of; but yet they are in several cases the same —
perhaps those of another generation of the same
families who have succeeded their elders.

" Fenton came to me Sept. ye ist .

1711

Will. Johnson, November ye 19 .

1713

Nanny Filbey, August ye 20th .

1718

Beck came April ye 20

1719

Edward, July ye 1 7 .

1719

Katherine, Oct. ye 27

1719

John, March ye loth

1720

Marget, April ye 1 9th

1721

Thomas ye Gardiner, August loth

. 1721

John, March ye 8th .

1721

Martha, Fenton June ye 24

1722

Doll came No. ye 20th

1722'

" Doll " only served six weeks, and Martha only a
few months. They were none of them old servants
as service was accounted then.

LADY GIFFARD'S WILL 353

" Fenton " was, I believe, Swift's widowed sister,
with whom he had long been on unfriendly terms.
She was the oldest member of the household, and,
curiously enough, Swift saw her in her new capacity
two days after she entered Lady Giffard's service
(possibly as Mrs. Johnson's or Mrs. Bradley's suc-
cessor), and he mentioned the encounter in a letter
to Stella, written on 8th September.

** Going to Windsor I overtook Lady Giffard
and Mrs. Fenton in a chariot, going, I suppose, to
Sheen. I was in a chariot too with the Ld.
Treasurer ; it happened that those people saw me
and not the Ld. T."

Sir William remarked that there are ''changes in
views of wit, like those of habits and other modes,"
and it was not because he had passed his youth, and the
old jokes were stale and profitless, that he wrote this.
It was absolutely true. The old light pleasantry,
the thinly veiled compliment, the brilliant repartee
was dead — dead as the love-locks of the Stuarts, or
the ruffs of Queen Elizabeth. " The little vein of folly
or whim, pleasant in conversation because it gives
a liberty of saying things discreet men, though they
will not say, are willing to hear " lingered, we may be
certain, in the quiet places of life — the Moor Parks
and the Chicksands, Priorys and Arlesford Granges
of England — and Lady Temple could not lose it. It
was as much a part of her as her eyes or her hands.
"Stella" carried it to Ireland with her, Anthony
Henley shone with it; but at the court of Queen
Anne they took life more seriously. In Charles I.'s
time, •* all wit, all love and honour were heightened

2 Y

354 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

by the wits of that time into romance." But at the
Restoration " Lord Goring took the contre-pied, and
turned all into ridicule." He was followed by the
Duke of Buckingham, and that vein, favoured by
King Charles IL, brought it into vogue.

The ** new wit " — the wit of the second Charles —
which we now call ** chaff," Swift called " raillery."
Charles IL and his court were adepts at it, but the
good-humoured part of it died with him. Blunt speech
and plain was in vogue in King William's time, and
in Anne's and the Georgian periods downright rude-
ness was tolerated. Lady Giffard saw all these changes
in manners as well as the fashions of dress and habits.
A propos of dress, what a variety of styles she must
have affected in her eighty-three years of life ! Only
one typical fashion we may, I think, be certain she
never favoured — the Puritan one. Those plump
shoulders were never covered with the traditional
muslin folds, and that rich brown hair was never
parted in smooth bands under a Puritan cap.

The three portraits in this book depict her in
three different styles of dress and coiffure. The
frontispiece is a typical '* Restoration " picture ; the
Lely an echo of the days of Henrietta Maria ;
while the simpler style of hair and the flowered
gown of the Netscher are of the ** Revolution "
period. So, when the loose smock was discarded
for the straight bodice, with embroidered stomacher,
and wide sleeves slashed and open from the elbow,
filled in with ruflles of rich lace, she doubtless wore
them too. When Mary of Orange turned her dark
hair up over a cushion, ladies of fashion must have
quickly followed suit ; and through the reign of Queen

LADY GIFFARD'S WILL 355

Anne Lady Giffard wore a cornet. She wore tassels
on her " mantuas," and a polnt-lace ''head," and
doubtless walked abroad in pattens.

Speech was simpler and freer from vulgarities in
Lady Giffard's day than it became in after years.
She, we may safely assert, never said **La! me
Lud!" nor shrieked nor fainted at a mouse (as the
fine ladies of Georgian days did), but she spelt
phonetically, and talked of "spaw watters," and
"migrims," and ''vappers" like everybody else.

Mrs. Fenton lived with Lady Giffard nearly twelve
years, and was handsomely remembered in her will
with a legacy of money, a little bit of Irish property,
a coffee-pot, and all her clothes and linen "except a
nightgown and a petycoat, two suits of night clothes
to my chambermaid." Which, I wonder, was the
chambermaid — Katherine, Marget, or Nanny ? Their
wages were not high. A reference to the account-
book shows that Fenton had ^10 a year ; Nanny, ;^5 ;
the gardener, £\2\ Will, £6 \ John, ^5; Catherine,
£6 ; Beck, £^ ; Martha, ^5. Edward apparently
''kept himself." He had board wages to the extent
of £\, 9s. for twenty weeks, so it is evident one
could keep up a good deal of style in those days
on a small income.

At this time Mrs. More was a member of the
household, and £\ is several times entered against
her name, once with the note " to give away " attached
to it. The " unreasonable husband " had by this time
given in, and she was perhaps a sort of lady com-
panion. She too came off well with a substantial
Httle remembrance of ;^50, and an annuity of ^10,
with "my silver cup and cover," as well as the bed

356 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

and furniture of the room she slept in at Sheen. Mrs.
More's salary was the same as Swift's — ;^20 a year.

Lady Giffard called her evening gowns ** night-
gowns," and her nightgowns " bed clothes," but even
then one is at a loss to know what her ** chamber-
maid " would want with an evening gown !

A page taken haphazard out of the account-book
is instructive : —

Nov. ye 9 th I came to London
Nov. 17

Nov. 18

Nov. 25

Dec. 8

Dec. 23d

Dec. 30

d.

pay'd ye 2 watchmen ....

001

GI

pay'd ye poll tax 2 quarters till last

Michaelmas

002

05

House bill

005

15 6

a quarter of a pound of tea and a silver

box

001

12

for sheers & trowells ....

002

04

My bill

000

16

to my niece for tea and porterage .

000

IG

pay'd Mr Holl in full of all accounts

014

6

pay'd my bill this week

000

IG 6

My bill

000

IG

dozen of gloves

001

6

pay'd Fenton a quarter wages to Christ-

mas 1721 .

002

IG

pay'd Martha same time

001

05

pay'd for wheels for ye Chariot

005

GG

My bill

000

18

Martha for a Manto & petycoat

002

GG

For gravel for my garden

000

12

pd. quarter's wages to Thomas ye gardiner

003

01

Cage for ye parrot ....

000

18

Christmas boxes .....

002

GG

pd ye Charity School ....

002

GG

Paid one year's tax to ye poor

001

05 0

For my seat in ye chapel

004

G4 G

Ye Highways one year ....

000

09

2 chaldron of coals ....

003

G2

Farnham bill for renat for Christmas

018

GI

Ye Gardiner one month board wages

001

GG

Ld. Berkeley rent for ye garden

GIG

LADY GIFFARD'S WILL 357

Silk for a nightgown ..... ^^003 00
Window tax till August and .... 000 15
tax for St. Martin's Church . . . . 003 03

Up to the last week (perhaps to the last day) of her
life she paid her own bills and kept her own accounts.
From these accounts one learns something of her mode
of living in town. Every year, on or about the 25th
of May, she went to her house at Sheen for the
summer months, and returned as regularly at the
beginning of November to her residence in Dover
Street, which was left in the hands of a caretaker
named ** Nan Fletcher." The journey was accom-
plished in a chariot with a pair of horses, coachman,
and postillion ; her companion, her maid, her parrot,
and a waggon behind with the luggage. She jobbed
her chariot and horses, and paid at the rate of eight
guineas a week for them. This sounds enormous,
but it included the men and fodder, for I find no
wages for coachman or postillion, nor bill for corn or
hay, in the account-book. The waggon which carried
her luggage cost her £1 each time.

When she came up to London for the last time
on the I St November 1722, she brought three new
servants with her. She must have settled in just
as usual, for her "house bill" remained at its fixed
sum of four guineas, and the Farnham butcher con-
tinued to supply the beef. She bought three new
liveries for her servants, and set herself up with three
dozen pairs of gloves, a new hood which cost i8s.,
and silk for a new "nightgown." She went abroad
in a ** chair," for which she paid 2s. 6d., and appar-
ently intended to spend a pleasant winter among her
friends. But U homme propose et Dieu dispose.

358 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

The last entry on a clean page in Lady Giffard's
book is dated —

Dec. 15 My bill for hood & night-cloak . .;fooi 07

to Fe (Fenton ?) ..... 002 02 00

and on January ist, 1723, her nephew and executor,
John Temple of Moor Park, turned over the page,
and wrote his statement of *' the small debts my Aunt
left." They amounted to £gi, i8s.6d., and included the
servants' wages from the last quarter, three guineas
for her seat in *'ye chappel," £1, 5s. subscription
to the Charity School at Richmond, and a few
workmen's bills ; and there was £y, 5s. interest due
to Mrs. Dingley, and .^5, 4s. to '' Stella."

The expenses of her funeral came to ;!f 78, los. —
of which the undertaker's bill was sixteen pounds,
and the fee for setting up the monument ten pounds.

Her '* small" debts came to ;^387 ; her ** great"
debts to ^550 in money, to be paid to

Mrs. More ^50

Mrs. Johnson ...... 400

Mrs. Dingley . . . . . .100

Her legacies amounted to ^387 ; the rest of her pro-
perty was disposed of in the manner we have already
seen in the will. Her annual income was about ^2000
a year, and it seems very wonderful to us to think
that she managed to keep two houses going, a chariot
and horses, twelve servants, and herself, upon it !

Swift, in one of his letters to *' Stella," says : " Lady
Giffard says she has no money!" No money she
certainly could have had to pay Martha and Hester
their principal of ^500 at call, but enough apparently
to pay them the interest regularly, and leave them the
full amount of the capital at her death.

LADY GIFFARD'S WILL 359

Mar ye 23, 1721,
I have in the South Sea stock i6os. for wich I pay'd . . ^^280
More put in with Mrs. More & Fenton for fifty pound stock

between us .... . ... 043

I have at ye time in money for ye house . . . .160

In old gold & spending having newly received my rent . 200

My midsummer dividend in South Sea stock . . .010

On another page —

Aug. ye 30th. What I am still to receive till Mar. 25, 1722 :
From N.B. (Nicholas Bacon) halfe a year's interest due

Sept. 29, 1721 ...... •;^o25

From my nephew at More Park due Dec. ye ist, 1721 . 040

From Reading half a year's rent due Sept. 29, 172 1 . . 100
From ye Exchequers upon lives and survivorship with Mrs.

Hettys ... ... ... II

My half year's rent from Blandsby ..... 094

From Ireland about . . . . . .100

My quit rent from Reading, Nov. ye ist, 1721 . . . 066

So the ** little sister " — whom Dorothy Osborne
'Moved extremely, and was sure was pretty," though
she had *' never seen more of her than what her letters
showed " — grown old in years, older by some years
than the big brother she had worshipped and the
sister she had admired so much, was laid beside
them in the great Abbey, which is the goal of men's
ambition to-day.

And by night, with flare of torches and with
simple state, the few friends and servants who wished
to pay the last office of kindness to her memory,
escorted her body to its last resting-place — with "no
scutchion," and with the "least expense my friends
are content to allow of." There is no reason to doubt
but that they carried out her wishes conscientiously,
but with all due respect and ceremony, as the expenses
of her funeral show.

36o LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

At eighty-three most lone women have outlived
their friends, but Lady Giffard had not. She had, as
we have seen, the God-given faculty for making new
ones, and was far from friendless, though all of her
own generation had gone before her. Her favourite
niece. Lady Portland, the other nephews and nieces
from Moor Park and Sheen, the Duke of Somerset,
and John Danvers were still alive, and they or
their representatives must have followed her funeral
cortege.

Sir William Temple left full directions for the
engraving of his sisters name, with his own, his
wife's, and daughter's, on one stone.

** To free my executors from the trouble of
choosing where to lay me, I do order it to be in
the west aisle of Westminster Abbey, near those
dear pledges that lie there already ; and that, after
mine and my sister's decease, a large stone may be
set against the wall with this inscription" —

Sibi suisque charissimis.

DiAN^ Temple delectissime Filise

D0ROTHE.E Osborne conjunctissimoe conjugi et

MarthvE Giffard optimce sorori

Hoc quelecunque monumentum

poni curavit.
GuLiELMUS Temple Barronetus.

In the west aisle of the Abbey, near the small
door leading to the organ loft, a mural tablet marks
their common grave.

INDEX

Addison, Joseph, 117, 184, 240

Ady, Mrs., 92, 96

Aheden, 293

Aix, 75, 76, 78

Albemarle, Keppel, Earl of, 229, 230

Monck, Duke of, 61, 63

Aldersgate St., 316

Aldershot, 160, 161

Alderston, N.B., 278

Algate, 114

Almay, Almacks, 208

Alphonso, Prince, 108

Althorpe, 234

Amsterdam, 65, 68, 88

Andover, 210

Anglesea, Lady, 258

Lord, 258, 262

Anjou, Due de, 120

Anne, Queen, 89, 91, 92, 116, 199,
210, 253, 261, 279, 283, 284, 304,
321, 322, 325, 341, 342, 353, 354

Antwerpe, 79

Arlesford, Grange, 353

Arlington, Lord, 48, 49, 52, 56, 63,
64, 71, 74, 75, 76, 11, 87, 108,
112, 122, 125, 126, 127, 128, 131,
139,211

Arlington House, in

Armstrong, Sir Thomas, 268

Arran, Earl of, 291

Arundel, Lord, 87

Ashburnham, Lord, 291

Ashley, Lord, 127, 128

Wilfrid, Esq., M.P., 195

Auverquerque, Monsieur, 229, 230.
See Overkirke

Avenue du Conde, 155

Bacon, Basil, 161, 282, 288

Children of Nicholas and

Dorothy: John, Nicholas,

361

Temple, William, Lionel, Basil,

Phyllis, Dorothy, Catherine,

Mary, 288
Bacon, Dorothy ("Doll") Temple,

wife of Nicholas Bacon, 161, 193,

200, 282, 284, 288, 347

John, 286, 287

Francis, Lord, 162

Lord Keeper, 285

Montague, 117

Nicholas, Rev., Vicar of Cod-

denham, 287, 288, 289
Nicolas of Shrubland, 200,

285, 286, 347, 359
Banks, Mr., 302
Baral, Monsieur, 191, 192, 193
Barbadoes, 288, 289
Barham, 278
Bastille, 154
Bath, 282
Battersea, 24
Baverwort, Mile., 140
Beaufort, Duke of, 291
Beck, 353

Bedford, Duchess of, 347
Bellasis, Lord, 33, 34, 230, 352
Bentinck, 196, 346. See Portland
Bergen, 103
Berkeley, Arabella, Lady, 267, 269

Earl of, 267, 269, 271, 273

Harriette, Lady, 266-275,

351

Lady, wife of Earl, 266-270

Mary, Lady, wife of Lord

Grey of Werke, 267
Berkeley of Stratton, Charles, 2nd

Baron, 196, 214

Anne, 276, 278

Barbara, 278

Charles, 278

Frances Sophia, 278

2 Z

362

INDEX

Berkeley, Jane, 278

John, " Mr. Berkeley," 276,

277, 278
Lady, Frances Temple, wife

of William, 3rd Baron, 264
Lady, Jane Martha Temple.

See Portland
Mrs., widow, 259, 260. See

Burnet
Mrs. Anne, sister of Charles,

and William, Lords Berkeley,

266

Robert of Spetchley, 260

William, 276, 277, 278

William, 3rd Baron, 213, 216,

236, 239, 241, 242, 253, 255, 256,

258, 260, 265, 275, 277, 347
Berks, 329
Billingsly, Mr., 228, 230

Mrs., 228

Biron, Lord, 278

Lady, 275, 277

Blague, Pvlrs., 90

Blandsby, 237

Bloomsbury, 159

Blundell, Lord, 230

Bohun, Edmund, 107

Borowski, 312

Boundes, 95

Boyle, 199, 268. See Orrery

Boyne, 290

Bradley, Mrs., 215, 218, 352, 353

Bradshaw, 116

Brandenburg, 55

Breda, 66,71, 73

Brentford, 317

Bretby, 4, 9, 10, 13, 15, 17

Brigett, 382

Brington, 280

Bristol, Lord, 99

Bristowe, 105. See Bristol

Britain, 89, 290

British Museum, 196, 227, 243

Broadlands, 195

Brouncker, Lord, 33, 34, 113, 114,

168, 170-172
Browne, Anna Maria, 288. See

Longe
Brussels, 52, 53, 58, 60-63, 66, 70,

72, 75, 78, 84, 87, 310
Buckingham, Duke of, 71, 99, 107,

108, no, 116,353
Bulstrode, 259, 262

Burghley, Lord, loi, 302
Burleigh, Lord, iii, 115
Burleigh House, 302
Burlington, Lady, 262
Burnet, Bishop, 126, 186, 261
Burroughes, Thomas, 269
Butler, Lady Anne, 104

Lady Elizabeth, i. See

Chesterfield
Byng, Admiral, 195

Cadogan, Lord, 326, 328, 329

Calais, 66, 326

Canterbury, 250

Capel, 205. See Earl of Essex

Carey, Mr., 304

Hon. Henry, 14

Mary, 14

Carlingford, Lord, 2
Carlisle, Earl of, 205, 230, 241

Lady, 326, 327, 328, 334, 338

Carmarthen, Marquis of, 342

Lady, 334, 335, 339, 342

Carnarvon, Earl of, 17

Carnworth, Earl of, 293

Carr, Sir Robert, 146

Carter, Mrs., 28, 30

Castle Jordan, 350

Castlemaine, Lady, Barbara Vil-

liers, 3, II, 45, loi, 103, 104, 113
Cataline, loi
Cataya, 39
Catherine, 352
Cave, Mother Ludwell's, 179, 188,

190
Cavendish, Anne, 115
Channel Islands, 66
Charing Cross, 317, 318
Charles L, 15, 27, 119, 291, 317,

321, 352, 354
IL, I, 2, 19, 26, 44, 61, 64-

65, 87, 89, loi, 104, 105, 109,

113, 116, 117, 118, 126, 127, 140,

145-148, 150, 152, 153, 167, 174,

228, 230, 291, 353
Chesterfield, Anne Percy, ist wife

of 2nd Earl, i
Lady, Elizabeth Butler, 1-6,

9, 10, 12, 14, 15, 17,266

Philip Stanhope, 2nd Earl, 1-5

Philip Dormer, 4th Earl, 253

Chichester, Bishop of, 338
Chicksands, 24, 132, 175, 193, 353

INDEX

363

Christchurch, Dean of, 82
Gibber, Colley, 156
Clanricarde, Lord, 306
Clarendon, Lord Chancellor, 48,

71, 105, 113, 116
Clarges, Sir Thomas, 40
Claydon, 286
Cleves, 55-57
Clifford, Sir Thomas, 119
Clogher, Bishop of, 226

Deanery, 226

Cocks, Mr. James, 278
Coddenham, 105, 195,221,285, 288,

289
Coffee House, 251
Colbert, de Croissy, 76, 77, 141, 142
Cologne, 48

Coly (Colney), 25, 26, 31
Comminges, Monsieur de, 103
Common, Doll, 100, loi
Commons, House of, 145-147
Congreve, 240
Coq, Madame le, 174
Cornwall, 90
Courtenay, Mr., 48, 59, 74, 137, 172,

187
Covent Garden, 16
Coventry, Lord, 66
Sir William, 100, 113, 142,

143
Cowley (poet), 42
Craven, Mr., 270
"Creeper," 29, 30, 47. See Jack

Temple
Crofts, Lord, 127
Cromwell, Protector, 65, 117

Richard, 117

Crooksbury Hill, 160, 188
Crowfield, 289
Growne Courte, 34, 168-170
Gumming, Sir Alexander, 201
Cuski, Carlo, 312. See Konigs-

marck

Dalrymple, Sir John, 109
Danby, Earl of, 139, 142, 143. See

Carmarthen and Leeds
Dan vers, John, 198, 242, 243, 246,

249, 360

Lady, 24

Sir John, 24

Davenant, Sir William ("Will"), 39
Davis, Moll, 81, 89

Delaney, 218
Denis, Madame, 201
Denmark, 66
Derby, 10

Lady, 321

Derbyshire, 4, 5

Derwent water. Earl of, 293, 294

Devonshire, Countess of, 99

Duke of, 96

Earl of. Ill, 115

Dhona, 73, 74

Digges, Aunt, 193

Dingley, 347. See E. Hammond

Cousin, 215, 217

Martha, 162, 218, 220, 242,

250,251,263,351,358
Ditchley, 295
Dixwell, Lady, 326, 328

Sir Basil, 197

Dolbin, Justice, 269, 271-273

Doll, 352

Dormer, Lady Elizabeth, 17

Dortund, 55

Dover Castle, 197

Street, 227, 242, 264, 305, 348,

350. 357
Downing, Sir George, 52, 53, 69,

119, 176
Dublin, I, 288
Dudley, Lord Guilford, 320
Dumas, Alexandre, 62
Durel, Doctor, 140
Dursley, Lady, 268

Lord, 268, 269

Diisseldorf, 55, 58

Edmonds, Thomas, 349
Edward, 352, 355

VL,3r9

Edwards, Thomas, 350

Egerton, Dr. Henry, 196

Elizabeth, wife of Dr. Henry,

196

Lady Betty, 349

Elizabeth, Queen, 295, 305, 306,

320, 353
Princess, daughter of Charles

L, 120
England, 54, 55, 57, 61, 62, 68, 71-

74, 120, 124, 126, 127, 129, 130,

131, 139, 143, 155. 160, 168, 215,

230, 281, 284, 290, 291, 293, 312,

314,315

3^4

INDEX

Essex, Algernon Capel, 2nd Earl

of, 228, 230, 260
Arthur Capel, ist Earl of, 145,

205, 245, 246
Lady, wife of ist Earl, 202,

205, 240, 241, 242, 244, 246, 248
Lady, wife of Robert Deve-

reux, 306, 307

Lord (Robert Devereux), 305

Estrades, Comte d', 63, 142
Eton (Eaton), 277, 348, 351
Europe, 9

Evelyn, John, 19, 90, 205, 316
Exeter, 3rd Earl of, 115, 301

Fanshawe, Sir Richard, 61

Farnborough, 179

Farnham, 186, 232, 240, 282, 348

Feinnes, Celia, 203

Fenton, Martha, 348, 351, 352, 355

Mrs., 353, 355, 358

Filby, Nanny, 352

Flanders, 137, 145

Fletcher, Nan, 357

Fontaine, de la, 102

Fountaine, Mrs., 26, 30, 34

France, 53, 54, 61, 65, 66, 72, -j-j,

131, 136, 141, 329
Franklin, Cousin, 22
Franklyn, Sir John, 153

Gahlan. See Bishop of Munster

Gainsborough, Earl of, 332

Garraway, Mrs., 226, 275, 276

Garth, Sam, 102, 199, 327

Gavel, Robert, 268

George L, 197, 290, 291-293, 335

n.,252, 278, 295

IV., 200

Prince of Denmark, 196

Gerard (herbalist), 34, 281

Germaine, Lord, 275

Germany, 53

Giffard, " Duke," 348

Martha, Lady, i, 6, 8, 10,

12, 14, 16, 17, 38, 47, 5i» 59, 60,
67, 68, 70-73, 75, 1^^ 81-83, 85,
88-90, 114, 128, 139, 141, 144,
148, 151, 155-157, 161, 173, 174,
176, 179-183, 185-187, 190, 195-
197, 199, 200-204, 210, 211, 213,
214, 217-219, 224, 227-229, 232-
237, 241-247, 249-255, 258-261,

263, 264, 274, 275, 277,; 279, 280,
282, 287, 290-295, 301, 302, 305,
307, 319, 323-327, 329, 331, 333-
335, 339, 340, 343, 345, 350-355,
357-359

Gloucester, Duke of, 261, 283, 342
Glover, Miles, 317
Go : (Godolphin ?), 11, 12
Godolphin, Francis, 89

Henry, 81

Sidney, 81, 89, 90, 146

Sir William, 12, 26, 61, 81, 83,

88
Goldsmith, Mrs., 24, 36
Gore, M., 149, 150
Goring, Lord, 353
Grafton, Duchess of, 209, 211
Grammont, Comte de, 2, 5, 118
Grand Hotel, 319
Gresham, Sir Marmaduke, 219
Grey, Lady Jane, 297, 320
Lord, of Werk, 266-271, 273,

274
Guardemau, Rev. Baltashazza, 285
Guiche, Comte de, 62
Guilford, 338

Guin (Gwynne), Nell, 149
Gustav Adolphus, 315

Hague, 65, 67, 69, 71-75, 119, 122,
123, 129, 136-138, 140, 141, 143,
191,211, 237,255, 257, 259, 263,

264, 276, 277
Halfrey, John, 269

Halifax, George Savile, Earl of,

199
Ralph Montague, Lord, 145,

245, 259
Hammond, Mary, 25
Mrs. Elizabeth, 218. See

Dingley.
Hampden, John, 116
Hampshire, 153
Hanbury, Mrs., 228, 249
Hanmer, Sir George, 211
Hanover, 337
Hanson, 314
Harrison, Mrs., 28
Harvie, Lady, 98, 100-102, iii,

112

Sir Daniel, loi

Hatton, Lord, 307
Hauberg, Prince of, 56

INDEX

365

Hawkesworth, 226

Hay, Sir Thomas, 778

Haymarket, 312, 313

Hemingham, 262

Henley, Anthony, 198, 200, 209,

234, 239, 240, 242, 243, 353

Park, 276

Henning, 256

Henrietta Maria, Queen, 93, 354

Henry VII., 233

VIII., 319

Herrenhausen, 293

Hertford, Lord, 257, S37

Hertfordshire, 296

Hessel, 76

Hester. See Johnson

Hetty, Mrs. See Johnson

Hill, Abigail, 312. See Masham

Hog's Back, 160

Holbein, 87

Holland, 34, 53, 61, 64, 65, 66, 68,

124, 126, 131, 134, 136, 137, 193,

254-257
Hollis, Lord, 66
Holloway, John, 349
Holt, ye, 277
Howard, Lord Henry, 99

Mrs., 228, 230

Howe, John Grubham, 266

Mrs. Anabella, 14, 266, 277

Hyde, Anne, 291. See York
Hyde Park, 17, no

India Houses, 156
Ipswich, 286, 288
Ireland, i, 21, 112
Ischam, Sir Justinian, 97
Isle of Wight, 207
Isleworth, 319
Italy, 106

Jamaica, 331

James I., loi, 117, 317, 320

II., 138, 152-154, 238, 239, 291

Stuart, Chevalier, 335

Jane, 24, 36
Janssen, Cornelius, 161
Jeffries, Judge, 41, 269, 272, 273
Jenkins, Sir Leoline, Secretary, 146
Jennings, Sarah, 91,92, 152. See

Marlborough
John, 352, 355
Johnson, Captain, 288

Johnson, Hester (" Hetty," or
" Stella"), 150, 179, 182, 188, 190,
197, 215-226, 243, 247, 250, 251,
263,280,347,351,353.

Mrs. (Stella's mother), 218,

243, 352

Sir Nathaniel, 315

William, 350

Join or Joire, Princess de, 257,
259

Jones, Inigo, 318

Jonson, Ben, loi

Juxon, 116

Katherine of Braganza, 2, 43,

90, 103-105, 108
Kelsey, Mr., 213
Ken, Bishop, 238
Kenmuir, Lord, 293, 294
Kensington Palace, 241, 291, 322,

326, 339
Kent, Duchess of, 193
Keppel, 229. See Albemarle
Kersfoot, John, 349
Kilby, Mrs., 202
Killigrew, Tom, iii, 113
Kingston, Duchess of, 262
Knightly, Sir Robert, 269
Konigsmarck, Count, 293, 312-314,

316

Laffan's Plain, 160
Lagger, Nanny, 215-219
Lambeth, 108

Lardner, Rev. Dionysius, 107
Latimer, Lord, 140
Lawfort, Mr., 25
Le Brun, 161
Lee, Colonel, 295

Lady Betty, 295, 298, 301

Sir Henry, 295, 296

Leeds, Duke of. See Danby and

Carmarthen
Leicester, Lord, 70, 98, 168, 169.

See Sidney
Lely, Sir Peter, 161, 162
Lenthall, 116
Lettice, 215-218
Lichfield, Lord, 295
Lincoln, Lord, 144, 155-159
Lisle, Philip, Lord, 33, 69, 70, 98.

See Sidney and Leicester
Lloyd, 94

366

INDEX

London, lo, ii, 17, 49, 50, 72, 81,
108, 127, 140, 152, 155, 192, 194,
210, 212, 227, 247, 250, 265, 270,
275, 277, 280, 287, 313, 317, 318,

319, 334, 338, 358

Bridge, 173

Longe, Rev. John, of Coddenham,

289
Longleate Park, 198
Longueville, W., 328
Loo, 201, 227, 230
Louis XIV., 'j'j^ 127, 141, 152
Louvre, 58
Lutherell, Narcissus, 159, 205, 231,

264
Lyttleton, Sir Charles, 309, 316

M'Carthy, Justin, 182

Macaulay, Lord, 181, 186, 214, 247

Madrid, 88, 289

Marchelsea Prison, 274

Marget, 352, 355

Marlborough, Duchess of, 102, 152,

250, 284, 290, 308, 322, 329, 331,

339, 340, 341, 343, 344

Duke of, 290, 339, 340, 343

House, 152

Mary of Orange, Queen, 153, 156,

157, 159, ^1% 197, 238, 252,290,

290-291, 320-321, 354
Masham, Mrs., 250, 312
Masingberd, Elizabeth, 226
Meade, Dr., 281-284
Middleton, George W., 286

Mrs., 155

Milton, 301

Mompert, 161

Monmouth, Duchess of, in, 112,

114

Duke of, 91, 340

Montague, Countess of, 309

Duchess of, 327, 328

Edward, 102

Lady Catherine, daughter of

I St Earl of Sandwich, 102
Mr. Charles, Lord Halifax,

198, 199
Ralph, 1st Duke of Man-
chester, 88, 99, 102, 103, 328
Montespan, Madame de, 155
Montpellier, 298
Moor "Hous," 161

Moor Park, 29, 153, 155, 160, 161,
163, 167, 170, 177, 181-183, i86,
190, 191, 195, 199, 200, 204, 208,
209, 210, 211, 216, 219, 225, 227,
233, 234-237, 239-241, 254, 266,
276, 279, 280, 282, 287, 288, 324,
346, 347, 348, 349, 351, 353, 357,
359

Moor Park, Hertfordshire, 153,
163

Moore, Sir Thomas, 25

Mordaunt, Lord, 261

More, Mrs., 281, 355, 358

Mortlake, 211

Morton, Mr., 337

Sir John, in, 113, 114

Munster, Bishop of, 48, 52, t;6, ^7,
61,87

State, 56, 57

Nairne, Lord, 293
Namur, 290
Nanny, 355
Narford, 30

Nassau, Prince Maurice of, 165
Needham Market, 286
Netherlands, 66, 142, 230
Netscher, 161, 195
Neuberg, 58

Duke of, 58

Newbury, 93
Newcastle, Duke of, 309
Newgate Market, 25
Newmarket, 334, 335
Newport, Lord, 99, 115
Newton, Thomas, 269
Nimeguen, 140, 165
Noel, Lady Elizabeth, 337. See

Portland
Norfolk, 289

Northampton, 15, 16, 234
Northumberland, Algernon, Earl

of, 206, 256, 317, 320

Countess of, 148, 313

Duke of, 125, 259

Duke of, nth, 308

Henry Howard, Earl of, 220,

House, 317-319

House, Old, 317

Norton, Mr., 198, 201, 242
Sir George, 201

INDEX

367

Ogle, Lady. See Somerset, 60,

309, 310, 314, 316, 321
Osborne, Sir George, 193
Osborne, Dorothy. See Temple,

18, 24, 93, 94, 96, 195, 253, 345,

359, 360
Sir Thomas, 26, 335. See

Danby, Carmarthen (Leeds)
Osgood, Mr., 25
Ossory, Lord, 124, 138, 289, 295
Ostend, 59

Overkirke, Monsieur, 227
Oxford, 82, 295
All Souls' College, 303, 304,

307

Balliol, 296

Earl of, 292

Pall Mall, 113, 127, 151, 152,

199, 286
" Papa." See Sir William Temple
Paris, 102,151, 154,294,327
Penshurst, 92, 98, 125
Percy, Lady Elizabeth. See Ogle

and Somerset, 148, 292
Petworth, 92, 191, 192, 196, 203,

208, 227, 228, 231, 317, 324, 327,

328, 333, 335, 338, 341, 342, 343
Porthynon, 37
Portland, Duchess of, 332, 334

1st Duke of, 330-332

1st Earl of, 205, 227, 230,

236, 252, 254-256, 258, 263, 265,
275

Countess of, 14, 186, 229, 252-

255, 258-260, 263, 264, 274, 275,
278, 280, 338, 346, 349-351, 360

Portugal, 64, 106

Prussia, King of, 262

Qu^ROUAiLLE, Louise de, 230

Raleigh, Sir Walter, 5 1

Rambouillet, Hotel, 294

Ratcliffe, Dr., 282-285

Rawleigh, Philip, 269

Raynes, 313

Reading, 27

Reigate, 278

Reresby, Sir John, 316

Rich, Charles, 4th son of Earl of

Warwick, 115
Lady, in, 115, 301

Rich, Penelope, 115
Richelieu, Cardinal, 150
Richmond, 20, 139, 291, 326, '333,

334, 339
Duchess of. See Stuart, 99,

103, 109
Duke and Duchess of, 228,

230

Place, 339

Rivers, Earl of, 14
Robarts, Lord, no, 112
Rochester, Earl of, 102, 106, in,

113
Roderigo, Castel de. Marquis, 76
Rohan, de, 151
Rolles, Mr., ^H
Rome, 238, 298
Romney, Earl of, 231, 237, 238.

See Sidney
Rotherhithe, 313
Rotier, Philip, 103
Rotterdam, 1^59, 257
Rue de Mailo, 151
Rupert Street, 312
Ruyter, van. Admiral, 61

Sacharissa, 46, 92-94, 96-98, 100,
103, 107, 108, 113-116, 199. See
Sunderland

Sadler, 31, 32

St. Alban Street, 313

St. Albans, Lord, 66

St. Evremond, Comte, loi, 118

St. James' Palace, 261

Place, 257, 260

Square, 303

St. Malo, 67

St. Martin's Lane, 312

Salisbury, Bishop of, 257, 260. See
Burnet

Countess of, 306

Dean of, 295

Sandwich, Earl of, 61, 117, 285

Saumarez, Lady de, 286

Savage, Elizabeth, 96, 237

Mr., 232, 242

Savile, Henry, Lord Halifax, 96,

237
Scarborough, Earl of, 340, 346
Lady, 203, 227, 321, 322, 338,

340
Scotland, 145, 280
Scott, Sir Walter, 219, 221

368

INDEX

Scrope, Lord, 14

Mrs., 13, 14

Sedgemoor, 340

" Sempronia," 100, 103, 106

Seneff, 138

Sevigne, Mme. de, 253

Seymour, Charles. See Duke of
Somerset

Lady Anne. See Carmarthen

Lady Mary, 291

Shaftesbury, Lord, 106. See
Ashley

Shakespeare, 345

Sheen, 19, 20, 27, 29, 30, 31, 33, 34,
47, 49, 51, 70, 84-88, 132, 142,
144, 148, 150, 153, 169, 171, 175,
202, 204, 211, 228, 241, 243, 267,
275, 279, 285, 286, 327, 338

East, 197, 202, 203, 211, 228,

241, 243, 275, 279, 285, 304, 324,
338,346, 347,351,353

Shrewsbury, Duke of, 338

Shrubland, 200, 285, 286, 288

Siam, King of, 155

Sidney, Algernon, 98, 124, 125

Henry, 96, 124. See Romney

—^ Sir Philip, 303, 305, 306

Silvius, Sir Gabriel, 140

Sion, 148, 210, 256, 309, 317, 321,
322, 324, 330, 337, 338, 343. See
Syon

Smythe, Mr., 95, 97, 251

Somerset, Duchess of, 19, 133, 210,
216, 227, 240, 244-247, 249, 250,
256, 259, 311, 312, 319, 338-344.
See Lady Ogle and Lady Eliza-
beth Percy

Duke of, 191, 192, 203, 227,

243, 248, 292, 308, 316, 321, 327,
331, 337, 338, 360

Protector, 319, 320

House, no

Somersetshire, 335

Southampton, 332, 337

Southwold Bay (Sole), 285

Spain, 64, 65, 'J'], 81, 84, 85, 88,
122, 135

Spanish Town, 332

Spixworth, 247, 289, 325, 345

Stadt Haus, 68

Stansted, 194

States of Holland, 245

Stella. See Hester Johnson

Stella Lodge, 179
Steven, Lord, 257
Stiddness, Sigismund, 269
Strafford, Lord, 76
Strangford, Lady Isabella, 98
Strathmore, Lord, 17
Strickland, Agnes, 104, 238, 321
Stuart, Frances. See Richmond,

44,45, 103, 104, 109, 114

Marie, Queen, 3

Suffolk, Earl of, 317

Suffolk, 195, 285, 286, 289

Surrey, 153, 240, 282, 336

Sussex, 267

Sunderland, Emanuel, Earl of, 14

Robert Spencer, Lord, 93-95

Lady (" Sacharissa"), 92-100,

108-111, 113-116, 155, 165, 237,

280, 301
Lord, son of" Sacharissa," 106,

III, 208, 210, 231, 234, 239, 245,

257, 280
Sweden, 122
Swift, Jonathan, 84, 150, 162, 167,

177, 178, 187, 190, 197, 217, 220,

222, 223, 232, 240, 243-246, 248-

251, 263, 279, 300, 311, 312, 351,

352, 354, 355

Talbot, Mrs., 334, 338

Temple, Sir William, 9, 15, 18, 19,
23, 24, 29, 30, 33, 34, 42, 48, 49,
52, 54-79, 81-84, 94, 95, 97, 119,
145-148, 150-154, 161-172, 179,
180, 182-187, 191, 192, 195, 196,
199, 202, 204, 208, 211, 213, 214,
217-219, 228, 231, 238, 240, 242,
245, 246, 251, 254, 263, 289, 307,
327, 328, 337, 343, 345, 353

Aunt, 25, 26

Cousin, 209

Diana ("Nan"), 52, 59, 71,

149, 150, 153, 206, 213, 233, 360

Dorothy ("Doll"), 197, 210,

279. See Bacon
Henry, brother of Sir W.

Temple, 72, 150, 211

John ("Jack"), son of Sir

William, 21, 25, 27, 29, 31, 33,
36, 59, 136, 142, 150-151, 154,
155, 161, 173-179, 197, 230

Lady. ^S"*?-? Dorothy Osborne,

12-38, 41, 43, 47, 51, 59-62,65-

INDEX

369

68, 73, 85-89, 97, 128-136, 153,
171, 174, 175, 178-181, 183, 185,
190-193, 195, 253, 345
Temple, Mrs. Jack, 151, 152, 199,
200, 210, 294, 346. See Marie
de Plessis

Sir John, father of Sir W.

Temple, i, 26, 124, 144, 306, 350
Temple Grove, East Sheen, 325,
351

Hall, 153

Temples of East Sheen —

Dorothy, 197. See Dixwell
Frances, 197, 351. See Berke-
ley
Harriette (Henriette), 277, 348,

351
Henry, Lord Palmerston, 346,

351, 384
Jenny, 348, 351
Lucy, 197, 264, 275, 277, 346,

.347,349,351
Sir John, 231, 232, 233
Temples of Moor Park —
Henriette, 276, 351
John, 89, 200, 211, 257, 346,

349,351
Mr. William, 277, 348, 351
Mrs. John (Betty Temple), 194,

200, 202, 211, 243,277, 279,

346, 347
Tennison, Archbishop, 295
Tennyson, Alfred Lord, 302
Thames, 34

Theatre, King James', loi
The Tower, 205, 292
Thomond, Earl of, 342

Lady, 338, 342

Thomas, 352

Thorolde, Cousin, 29

Thynne, Thomas, 148, 309, 311-

314
Titian, 318
Toledo, 79
Tom, valet, 26-30
Torrington, Lord, 151, 195
Trafalgar Square, 317
Trevor, Secretary, 128
Trinity College, Dublin, 179, 184
Troy, 71
Tuileries, 154
Tunstall, 288
Turenne, Marechal, 130

Turner, 272, 275
Tuscany, Prince of, 125, 126
Twickenham, 329, 334
Tyrrell, James, 42

Up Park, 270

Vachell, Sir John, 27

Valery, Mile, de, 198, 200

Van der Moulen, 161

Vandyck, 92, 161

Vaughan, Lady, 156

Vendome, Due de, 154

Victoria, Queen, 211

Vigo, 290

Villiers, Anne, Lady Portland, 238

Vincent, Thomas, 269

Voltaire, 300, 301

Vratz, Captain, 312, 313, 316

Wales, 38

Frederick, Prince of, 330, 333

Princess of, 370

Waller, poet, 40, 44-46, 92, 93, 1 16,

117

Lady, 25, 26

Walsingham, Lady, 303, 305, 306
Ward, Mr., 25
Warwick. See Rich
Wellingborough, 15, 16
Welwin, 296, 300, 305

Church, 298

Wensleydale, 257

Wentworth, Lady Harriet, 91

West Indies, 332

Westminster Abbey, 149, 159, 190,

193, 233, 346, 348, 359, 360
Westphalia, 55
Whitehall, 2, 39, 81, 89, 104, 105,

114, 139, 152, 153, 157

Chapel, 157

Steps, 173

Wicklow, 288

Widrington, Lord, 293

Will, 355

William III., Prince of Orange, 16,

19, 74, 120, 153, 168, 173, 176,

201, 229, 238, 239, 247, 281, 283,

290, 354

— IV., 153,158, 159

Winchester, 295, 311
Windsor, 153, 248, 249, 256, 311,
353

3 A

370

INDEX

Wintoune, Earl of, 273

Witt, John de, 64, 69, 73, 74, 120,

121, 123, 127, 137
Wredon, Baron, 48
Wren, Sir Christopher, 71
Wyndham, Lady Catherine, 335,

336
Sir Wilham, 291, 335-337

Yelverton, Sir Christopher, 17

York, Duke of, 3, 4, 5, 103, 106,

114, 137, 145.237,245
York, Duchess of, 5

Lady Anne (Queen), 91

Lady Mary (Queen), 137, 139,

153
Young, Dr. Edward, 295, 296, 301-

303, 305, 307
ZULICHEN, 165

THE END

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